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Peter was nursing a negroni in the den when the door crashed open upstairs, the sounds of trudging feet and previously muffled laughter now echoing through the house. His niece, Cora, home from school the first day after winter break with some fellow miscreants in tow. He snorted and took another sip as he involuntarily honed in on their chatter. Two of the voices he recognized from prior visits — Dian and Stacy (or was it Tracy?) — but there was someone new as well, a boy currently responding to Cora’s commentary about his athletic abilities…or lack thereof.“I’m not clumsy, I’m creatively mobile!” the stranger argued indignantly. “And where’s your uniform, huh? Oh, that’s right, you’ve unofficially been banned from team sports since middle school for—ow!” Something solid fell to the floor and rolled. “Anger issues and Impulsive violence.”“Touché,” Cora replied while the other girls giggled, a smirk surely mirroring the one on his own face.  As the teens settled into the kitchen for snacks before starting on some group project that they’d been assigned, the scent of something indescribable yet incredibly appealing reached him. He’d picked up hints of it before on Cora and around town, but at this concentration it was simply enthralling and had him heading toward the stairs before he realized what he was doing.Peter slowed down once he entered the formal dining room so that he could saunter into the kitchen,  gaze sweeping oh-so-casually across the room for its source. Everyone except Cora startled when he said hello to his mild amusement. The beplaided, dark-haired boy hunched over the table looked up from where he’d been reading, absent-mindedly chewing on a popsicle stick, and Peter paused mid-stride as he met curious dark brown eyes. Everything else faded into the background as the moment stretched, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as a spark lit between them and he knew. The stranger stared back, head tilting and eyebrows raising in puzzlement, until Peter forced himself to look away first, realizing how the others were now all watching too.“Don’t mind me,” he said, clearing his throat and pivoting a few steps over to the fridge. He grabbed the first bottle he saw — one of his nephew’s disgusting flavored “waters” — and hurried up to his room.“Who’s that?” he heard trailing after him as deftly tossed the beverage into Derek’s currently unoccupied room. Who are -you-? he thought in return.Once inside his own chambers he closed the door, activating the soundproofing, and dropped down onto his bed, breathing quickly as he stared at the wall and answered his own question.
Mate. 
It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of a wolf’s life, meeting your supposed other half. Something special that many never got to experience. The stuff of fairytales and romantic stories. But almost as soon as this life-altering revelation happened to him Peter began to see the numerous complications.His mate was not only human, but a high school student and probably underage at that, though he was in Cora’s senor class. Even if he wasn’t, the teen was still so very young for a man halfway through his 30s. And if that wasn’t enough, continued eavesdropping once he pulled himself together and cracked open the door revealed that the boy — who went by ‘Stiles’ of all things — was also the son of their newly in the know sheriff.Peter had a bit of a record in his rambunctious younger years and several speeding and parking tickets since then. As Left Hand, he’d also been questioned as a person of interest a time or five, though he was too careful to ever be arrested much less charged with anything major. His runs with the law aside, he had a feeling those all too human marks against him would be the least of John Stilinski’s concerns.For all those reasons and more he couldn’t just abscond with the boy the way his wolf demanded, but perhaps the situation wasn’t entirely hopeless. As much as he disliked it, Peter could be patient if he needed to and what better cause than this? So he made up his mind that he’d just go on as before and let Stiles mature and spread his wings without interference until some time in the future. In part this was because he wanted to think of himself as being better than he was, but he also figured that he’d encounter much less resistance to a relationship from his Alpha sister if he played things safe and proper.Well, mostly.He couldn’t help joking, and flirting, and showing off from time to time during the brief interactions he allowed himself with his unwitting mate. The way his gaze sometimes lingered when he walked away or the fancy dishes he took to making ostensibly as practice, but really just for Stiles. He didn’t stalk the boy around town, but aded the Stilinskis’ street to his general patrols of the territory. And if Cupid’s bow lips featured in his private time, well that was nobody’s business but his. As far as Peter was concerned he was damn near a saint for the amount of restraint he was showing considering how stroongly he wanted him. He never aimed to make his mate uncomfortable, only a bit flustered here and there, and it was clear that Stiles enjoyed it just as much from the way he’d light up when they saw each other. Some harmless fun to soothe his wolf and create some fond memories to tide him over. He took pains never to actually touch him knowing that once he did so he’d be lost.  It took a while to admit it to himself, but Stiles started really looking forward to seeing Cora’s devilishly attractive uncle, Peter. Luckily for him, although they sometimes met up at the library or one of their other houses instead the Hale house was everyone’s favorite despite it being out of the way. There was just something a bit magical about the place with its interesting blend of tradition and modernity. That there always seemed to be enough snacks to feed a small army was another plus.Sometimes Peter would mock-begrudgingly offer some of whatever delicious smelling thing he’d be cooking while they were there or leave a covered platter of what Cora called “whores devours” for them if he wasn’t around.It was both funny and frustrating that while he couldn’t seem to get the time of day from his peers that here was this hot guy probably twice his age who liked to banter and flirt with him. He knew that Peter just enjoyed messing with him, but Stiles couldn’t stop the butterflies that formed in his belly when he was looked at a certain way or the blushing when he was either caught staring or had walked right into some innuendo he only realized a second too late. Sometimes he did it on purpose and was rewarded with an even more wicked grin.He’d zone out while trying to work on their history presentation or some other homework and end up daydreaming about the older man’s broad chest. Peter’s choice of shirts also did little to hide the way the his back moved when he’d reached up to get something from a high cabinet or his forearms as he chopped various ingredients with his sleeves rolled up. Cora seemed to have some uncanny ability for interrupting his not-so-innocent thoughts shortly after they began, which was honestly giving him a bit of a complex despite knowing there was no way she couldn’t actually read his mind.Not that they were being that subtle given her occasional mutters of “Really?” that could’’ve been for either of them.He couldn’t explain it, but there was just something about him that Stiles was hopelessly drawn to.  He should’ve known the good times wouldn’t last. While Talia remained blissfully unaware for quite some time, eventually she caught on to his interest in Stiles and became subject to disapproving looks and the chilling effect of her presence. At some point she also realized that he wasn’t simply attracted to the teen, but that something more was going on to keep his attention so.As much as it pained him, Peter tried to make himself scarce during the times Stiles was likely to be over, but it was no use. One thing he and his his sister had in common was their persistence once they had a target in their sights. The confrontation came during a random Tuesday while the rest of the pack was at work or school or elsewhere.“Your fixation with the Stilinski boy. Explain,” Talia demanded without preamble.He thought about spinning some half-truths and downplaying the situation, but decided the least damning thing would be the truth.“He’s my mate,” Peter answered, shrugging a shoulder like he wasn’t dropping a bomb on her. Like his stomach wasn’t churning with trepidation.The shocked expression on her face made him want to laugh, though he held it in because he didn’t need this to go any worse. Peter wondered if the greater surprise was that his mate was someone so unexpected, that they’d actually met, or that someone like him had one at all. He was jolted back to the present when she said his name in that scandalized tone that he hated.
“Peter!”
“Now before you get your fangs out, I’m not planning on courting the boy or even telling him anything for a few years at the least. I’m just getting to know him some before he heads off to college.”“And your...behavior?” she asked with distaste.“Just a bit of harmless fun. We haven’t even touched, which you’re fully aware of.”“You know, that sounds like something Kate Argent might’ve said…”He found himself growling at her and knew his eyes were flashing blue. He knew her intention was to goad him as if to say, “See how irrational you’re being?”, but he couldn’t not react.“I am nothing like that heinous bitch,” he said, looking her right in the eye as he spat the last word. “I’m not trying to hurt him in any way let alone for the purpose of attempting to kill his family—”“Speaking of his family, do I have to remind you that his father is the sheriff. That he knows about us now and that it’s imperative to have him be on our side?”“I’m well aware,” Peter huffed. He’d been the one to suggest bringing Stilinski in after the man nearly got chewed on by a wendigo.  “Then you should understand why I’m ordering you to stay away from him.”His wolf howled its rage at the Alpha command, the urge to challenge her rising. I can’t do that, not like this. Not now. To lose the pack or be the one that forced out their mother? I can’t…Gritting his teeth, Peter asked, “For how long?” The answering silence sounded like too much “forever.” He continued to meet her crimson gaze as it faded back to brown. “Until I say so,” she finally replied. “You’re not to approach him or talk to him until then.”Peter couldn’t bring himself speak without saying he might regret, so he merely nodded and bowed mockingly before leaving. He stalked outside until reaching the tree line and then started running until his muscles ached. He punching a fallen pine and splinters stuck out from his fist, blood dripping onto the ground.Talia was so infuriating. Like always she would say she was just doing what was necessary, that she was only protecting her pack. They all chafed under her rule, though some of them much more than others. The way she used their insecurities and other weaknesses against them to keep them in line. Derek’s guilt over the near catastrophe with the Argents or how she gave orders to get his hands dirty and then turned around and upbraided for carrying them out. Peter dropped into a crouch and tried to calm down. Stiles wold be an adult soon and trust would grow between the pack and the sheriff as they continued to interact and work together. He would miss Stiles something fierce, but that was going to happen when he left in a few months anyway. The plan hasn’t really changed, he kept telling himself. Somehow, some way, he would get through this.  Stiles was disappointed once again. They’d been meeting elsewhere to work on their project more often and then when he did come over Peter wasn’t around. This was the third time he’d been over to the Hales’ this month with no sign of the older man. It was like he had vanished all of a sudden.“So, did your uncle go get an actual job or something?' he tried to ask casually. “Get arrested? Moved to the Maldives?”Cora froze for a moment before looking down and fidgeting with her pen.“Uh, some stuff came up and he’s just been…busy,” she said.Well, that was totally convincing and nor suspicious at all. Stiles wanted to press her for more information, but there was no good way to do so without having to explain why he so interested in his whereabouts.Fortunately, It wasn’t hard for him to discover that Peter also had an apartment in the industrial area and then some more snooping to find out the right unit number. He made a habit of hanging out in the area and it wasn’t long before he ran into him at a nearby coffee shop. A tension he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying lessened and he smiled in relief.Stiles got up and walked over intending to sneak up on him, but Peter suddenly stopped looking at his phone and turned towards him, expressions flickering too quick for him to read. “Come here often?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows beside him.But instead of the usual witty remark Peter only gave him a strained smile and nodded to him in acknowledgment. Okay. He awkwardly mentioned that he was forced to eat Hot Pockets again because Peter wasn’t around to cook something better.Another smile and more silence.Stiles’ face fell and his heart sank. He hadn’t been planning to order anything else, but turned to look at the menu so that he had an excuse for coming over that wasn’t just talking to him. He stared at the at the colorful chalk display without seeing anything, his mind spinning in circles.Had he done something wrong? He didn’t think so. Peter was all smiles the last time he saw him, so that couldn’t be it. They’d always had fun at the house… Oh.Peter didn’t want to be seen with him in public. That made sense, he supposed, but that didn’t stop further feeling of rejection. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he abruptly hurried to the bathroom and stayed there until he stopped feeling like he might cry. By the time he came back out Peter was gone. Stiles just wanted to go home and wallow in his misery, but when he had to walk past Peter’s building to get to Roscoe there was an insistent urge to go inside. Of course, there was no Hale or Peter or PH listed anywhere in the call box. Stiles snorted. This diva.He stood there for a couple minutes waiting for some other tenant to enter or exit in hopes they’d let him in, but none did. Sighing, he tried the door fully expecting it to be closed and prepared to take that as a sign that he should just forget it, forget whatever this was with Peter, but it clicked opened.
Huh, you’d think a place like this would fix something like that pronto.  
He took the elevator to the top floor and then spent several moments pacing at the far end of the hall, steeling himself before walking over and knocking. Peter seemed stunned at his appearance, wide eyes looking up and down the hall before motioned him inside. The door shut behind him and then he turned, the two of them staring at each other.“Are you…alright?” he asked tentatively, the things he’d been planning to say flying right out of his head at the anguish on the other man’s face.Peter looked away and exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “You’re not okay.”Peter nodded.“You can’t talk?” he asked, confused.More nodding.Okaaay, he thought feeling entirely out of his depth. Peter didn’t appear sick and his aloof behavior went beyond having a bad case of bronchitis, so what the hell could possibly—Peter waved a finger to get his attention and then gestured to himself before holding both hands up pleadingly. Puzzled, Stiles waited to see what Peter was trying to convey and then watched in shock and horror as his face began to change. He stumbled backwards several steps, but when Peter didn’t move he stopped and took a deep breath, looking on in fasciation at glowing bright blue eyes, facial ridges, fangs, and sudden hirsutism. “Holy shit,” he muttered to himself as he crept closer again, circling around. Peter stood still watching him back just as closely and when Stiles made to touch his head before thinking better of it, the apparent werewolf smirked and nodded his permission. He reached for a furry, pointed ear and it was like a painless electric current ran through them both, a moment of heat that left him gasping but filled with contentment in its wake. He took one of Peter’s hands and traced down to a thick, sharp claw, watching as it melted back into a regular fingernail as Peter changed back to his human form. Stiles realized he was still holding onto Peter and blushed, letting him go despite an overwhelming desire to keep touching. “You got turned into a werewolf?!” Peter snorted and shook his head. Okay, well then that meant…“You were already a werewolf?”Nod.“Your family too?”Peter nodded again.“Whoa, duuude.”Images from countless monster movies played while a thousand questions spawned in his head. He thought of those little quirks of movement and the keen hearing. The house in the woods, of course. The near mind-reading at times—oh god.Before he could go down that path of embarrassment he also remembered that other jolt he felt the first time they met as well.“So, on the subject of unusual things, I didn’t imagine that just now during show and no tell, right? There’s something happening between us, isn’t there?”Peter winked and then opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again in frustration. After several moments of agitated pacing, he looked like he had an epiphany and rushed around the apartment gathering a pen and some junk mail to write on and started scribbling away.“Wow, are you a doctor or…?”Peter rolled his eyes and continued writing as Stiles impatiently read over his shoulder, his lips thinning in anger as he discovered that Peter had been ordered not to approach or speak to him. Apparently that hadn’t been specific enough to prevent following the letter of the rule and ignoring the spirit.“You got in trouble because of me?” he asked softly.Not your fault, Peter wrote, underlining it twice.“Well, that’s a first.”They smirked at each other and then Stiles burst out laughing. Peter smiled and stepped forward to hold his face in his hands, gently pressing their foreheads together and they breathed as one. They exchanged numbers and kept in contact through text, stealing away to meet up at the apartment   at least once a week as they were able. Even though they weren’t doing anything other than hanging out, Peter still had to leave his car at the gym a few blocks away beforehand and then go there to shower afterward to remove his scent before driving to the pack house, which made things tricky. On the plus side, if asked Peter could honestly say he was going to the gym.His side of the equation was easier both because his dad was usually at work anyway and because he wasn’t really lying when he said he was meeting a friend because they were friends as well as mates. Yeah, they were too clever by half.A month or so later, Stiles was saying goodbye behind him as he opened to the door and nearly ran into a red-eyed Mrs. Hale.  
John arrived at the diner with a combination of wariness and curiosity. It was just outside of town and mostly empty in between lunch and dinner, but public enough to feel reasonably safe. As much as he could be, anyway.

Finding out that the supernatural not only actually existed, but being introduced to honest-to-God werewolves while following a lead on a case a few months ago was something he was still trying to wrap his brain around. If he hadn’t seen Talia Hale change right in front of him to keep him from being attacked by some humanoid creature with gnarly teeth he wouldn’t have believed it.

They’d had a few conversations since, including a basic rundown of about werwolves, but this was the first time she’d been the one to call and ask to meet about something important. He grabbed  some coffee and set it down across from the half full cup of tea in the back booth where Talia was waiting.

“So, I take it there’s some new , uh, ‘funny business’ I should know about?”  he asked, after sitting down and exchanging greetings.

“You could say that,” she replied, taking a breath and clasping her hands together. “It’s about my brother…and your son.”

At the mention of Stiles he was instantly on high alert, worried that he’d been hurt or—

“He’s okay” she added, picking up her cup.

John exhaled roughly, palming his face and wondering just how Stiles had become involved in this mess exactly as he’d been afraid of when he suddenly went back over the tone of her statement. No, that didn’t sound like he was chasing after monsters, that sounded like…

He clenched his jaw, his blood pressure surely spiking through the roof.

“What did you mean by ‘Peter -and- Stiles?’ Has that son-of-a-bitch been doing something to my son?!”

“No, nothing like that,” she said firmly, flicking a wrist. ”There’s been nothing physical so far, but—“

“-So far?-” he repeated angrily. She gave him an irritated look and continued.

“But, there’s been some…inappropriate interactions. Flirting and such. Obvious -mutual- interest.” She raised a hand to forestall his interruption. “I’d already forbidden Peter from going to him or speaking to him — I’ve told you about Alpha commands — but that didn’t stop *Stiles* from seeking him out instead. You see, a bond has already formed on both ends somehow, which means this behavior will continue, and eventually escalate, without intervention.”

“A bond?” he asked, confused. Stiles wasn’t a werewolf… His eyes widened and his hand dropped to his gun.
 
A half hour or so later after confirming that his son was in fact still human, he’d listened to her explain  about mating bonds. How usually they didn’t form unless there’d been either a mating bite or a much more extensive relationship than the two of them currently had even if the couple were “true mates,” which was supposedly an actual thing.

It would be be deeply concerning with anyone, the idea of being tied to a stranger just like that, but the who was a total non-starter. He’d only really met the man — werewolf, whatever — once and while clearly intelligent he was not the sort of person he wanted anywhere near his kid. And that was not even counting the age difference and the whole not being human part.

In no way did he want Stiles to get caught up in this dangerous, alien world of supernatural stuff. No, if John had his way his son would go off to college none the wiser to have a safe and normal life. Unfortunately, if John knew anything bout his son it was his penchant for stubbornness and persistence and his disregard of authority if he was sufficiently motivated.

This bond thing sounded like an addiction and like any addiction the best thing was to get help before it progressed.Talia was obviously against it as well, so he asked what more could be done to nip things in the bud.

“Do I have your permission to block his knowledge of Peter and the mating bond?“

More explanations followed and after answering all his questions he hesitantly consented for it to be done.

“You’re sure this won’t…damage him or anything?” he asked again, uneasy at the idea of rooting around in his brain.

“Yes. Both my emissary and I have done this before.”

John wondered exactly how often and for what reasons she’d been altering peoples’ memories, but that was a concern for another time. She smiled at him wryly as if reading his mind.

“You can be there if you’d like. In fact, that would be a good excuse to get him to us and then you can be the one to take him home. He might be a little woozy right after.”

John hadn’t always been a good father to Stiles and now he needed to do what was best for him.

“Alright, do it.”
  Peter expected Talia to confront him, to lecture and threaten or even order him away from Beacon Hills altogether, but she’d only flashed her eyes and growled at him before taking a deep breath and telling him to get back to the pack house. As worried as he was now, Peter didn’t regret his disobedience. Stiles was clearly affected despite being human, which changed things because it was no longer only a matter of his own needs and wants. It wasn’t him pursuing a one-sided yearning with someone who could just as easily do without. The tension was palpable in the house that evening and over the following days as he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. When several more passed without incident Peter started to wonder if that was really the extent of it and that he was being too paranoid. Maybe she’d realized that she couldn’t just will away their bond, but was too proud and stubborn to say so. Wanted to leave him to sweat it out some more and only expected that he’d be more discreet. That would be just like her. So he committed to laying low for a while, texting but not attempting to meet in person for the time being, and begun to feel cautiously optimistic.He got asked to run some errands the next afternoon and came back from the grocery store with ingredients for dinner when he was called into Talia’s office. Absentmindedly, he put the ice cream back down on the counter and went to see what she wanted. As soon as he stepped inside the door swung shut seemingly of its own volition and he realized she wasn’t alone.Deaton, whose presence had somehow escaped him — his car hadn’t been the driveway and Peter hadn’t picked up his earth and ozone threaded scent  —  was standing behind Talia with his usual placid expression. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but his instincts were screaming “Trap!” and “Danger!”Hackles raised, he took a step back toward the door and Talia sighed with exasperation. A moment later mountain ash was swirling into place around him.  “I see now that it was unfair and unrealistic of me to expect you to stay away from your mate, so the only solution is to take matters into my own hands for both your sakes.”He was filled with dread as the emissary approached him with pity in his eyes.“It will be easier for us all if you’re not awake for this,” Deaton said, followed by arcane gestures and whispered words in some other language. His body became heavy and he started to slump to the ground, his wolf howling inside as he slipped away.  Peter shook his head as he walked back to the kitchen, having lost his train of thought after Talia called to inform him of a family of witches to keep an eye on. He returned to putting away the groceries, sighing when he picked up the carton of ice cream and found it yielding, melting already. Must’ve lost track of the time as well, he thought. Just fit for milkshakes now, I suppose. After dinner the strange melancholy he’d been feeling had him turning in for the night, but he couldn’t get comfortable. It was only after hours of tossing and turning, tears leaking from his eyes, that he finally fell asleep.

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

Another school day went by in a haze of shrill bells and crowded halls, tuned out conversations and half listened to lectures. His concentration was shot and he was on edge for no particular reason these past few weeks, anxious like he was forgetting something important and not just his chemistry homework (Mr. Harris had loved that) or where he put the keys to Roscoe, ending up late to class again. Back at home, Stiles slowly paced in the living room, his body tired yet restless. He needed to up the dosage of his ADHD meds or something because he’d been taking them as usual, but they weren’t working the same. Maybe it was just the sleep deprivation — he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept through the night — but he was beginning to fear that it was something else. The specter of his mother’s illness was always lurking in the recesses of his mind and now these symptoms brought it to the fore. After years without panic attacks he started having them again. The nightmares were new, ever shifting dreams with the reoccurring theme of being lost or trapped in some way. Left in pure, silent darkness or in dense gray-white mists filled with intelligible sound. Alone in fantastic forests or unfamiliar cities surrounded by blank-faced strangers. Running through hedge mazes that wouldn’t end and crawling through tunnels deep underground.Sometimes he woke screaming for something or someone, the word slipping away and off the tip of his tongue before he was fully conscious.One evening found him frantically rummaging through first his room and then the attic under the impression that If only he could find it — whatever it was — then things would be right again. Stiles tried to distract himself by hanging out at the theater and the arcade or playing video games with his best friend, Scott, when the other teen wasn’t working at the vet’s office or spending time with his girlfriend. He’d get the urge drive aimlessly on the backroads of Beacon County and wander through the preserve. Being out there in the wilderness seemed to bring him some comfort, though there were times he could swear that he was being watched. It was probably just his imagination rather than a hungry cougar or escaped psycho, but he’d walk whistling through the trees with his baseball bat and bear spray just in case.Where he ended up didn’t really matter, he just needed to get away from his too empty house and his too full head and the worry etched into his father’s face on the infrequent occasions they’d cross paths like two ships in the night. His dad was working extra overtime again, some new case that once might’ve captured his interest, but that he couldn’t be bothered to keep tabs on or pester him about.Stiles knew that the scrunched forehead and the clenched jaw, the pained eyes while staring at the single pour of whisky he allowed himself, were because of him.   He could breathe a little easier once Derek came home from New York at the end of spring. Laura, his eldest niece, was still gallivanting abroad unfortunately, but it was good to have most of the pack back together where he could keep an eye on them. Not being able to gather and scent everyone was like having an itch he couldn’t scratch. Peter could tell that Laura was bemused at why he’d started texting her several times a day and calling her “just to say hi” at night UK time, but she’d mostly humored him so far except when he tried to convince her to return early. He’d upped his patrols, investigating anything out of the ordinary no matter how small.His instincts were screaming that if he let down his guard that some disaster would strike and he’d lose everything. It’d almost happened before after all and it had frankly been happenstance that he’d thwarted the Argent plot to burn them all in their home. Kate and Gerard were long dead and yet the only reason he hadn’t dug up their bodies to make sure was that he’d seen them dismembered and scattered with his own eyes and he’d still had to talk himself out of it. He kept looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone else to be there, but who he couldn’t say.Peter wanted to add more security to the house and had drawn up plans for a safe room and an additional escape tunnel leading to the other side of the property, but Talia dismissed his proposals. Their discussions ended in arguments more often than not, including a spectacular shouting match that almost came to blows when he accused her of being derelict in her duty to protect the pack and even suggested that she shouldn’t be Alpha anymore. Derek and Sebastian broke it up before he could actually challenge her, but it was close thing.He was exiled to his apartment for a week after that and if Cora and Derek hadn’t taken turns staying with him he might’ve gone mad, his wolf desperate to hold on to something. Someone. Not wanting that to happen again — or worse — he kept further misgivings to himself, but implemented the modest measures that he was able to do on his own like reinforcing the doors and updating the surveillance system. Peter hated the way a room would go quiet when he entered. The unease or exasperation, pity or, strangely enough, guilt, in their scents and on their faces. How he was humored at best. He worried about the cracks that were ever widening in what should’ve been, but never quite was, whole.No, things hadn’t been seamless before, but there’d never been this much discord. Lines were drawn — about what exactly he wasn’t privy to, though it obviously involved him — with Talia on one side, Derek and Cora on the other, and the rest tiptoeing around in the strained spaces between them. More than a few times he’d come home to an already charged atmosphere or heard Cora angrily leave Talia’s office, either going for a run or marching to her brother’s room afterward.He asked her about it once, but she just hugged him and whispered “One day” before changing the subject.That night, Peter laid in bed and wondered if maybe he was the danger. The contagion that would tear the pack apart.   Somehow he finished the school year and graduated even with the nose dive his grades had taken over the final weeks. Stiles figured that the teachers just didn’t want to deal with him anymore and who could blame them?The pervasive sense of wrongness continued into the summer and with it came the urge to flee, especially as the few friends he saw sporadically departed for internships, early classes, or visiting family and left him even more alone. Finally, it was his turn.His dad kept telling him that college would turn things around. A fresh start full of interesting courses and a new, bigger city to explore with people more his speed. That he’d have better luck dating,wink wink.Stiles didn’t go far though, just to the Bay Area a day trip away so that he could still check up on his dad. At first he came back pretty much every other weekend, but after Thanksgiving his visits became less frequent. He got tired of the drive and being asked how he was doing, his father disappointed whether he admitted his disconnection and depression or told the obvious lie that he was fine.His outgoing Alabaman dormie dragged him to a party on New Year’s Eve where he got well and truly wasted after several rounds of King’s Cup and was left to his own devices. Stiles was primarily a happy drunk and decided he much preferred the warmth, relaxation, and having fun to his usual state. After procuring a fake ID he became a regular at the clubs, the loud music and physical exertion further taking him out of his head and leaving no room for darkened thoughts.It turned out that his dad was right about the romantic opportunities, but whenever Stiles tried to take someone up on their offer he always began to feel uncomfortable, nauseous even, once they started kissing, leaving him confused and frustrated. One look through his harddrive and browser history would show he was He was far from asexual, but apparently his mind, his body, and his libido were incapable of getting on the same page, so he was stuck with his hands for release. It was just another reason he felt cursed. Getting out of bed in the morning got harder and harder and it wasn’t long before he stopped going to class altogether, temporarily moving into the unfinished basement of a former classmate’s sketchy rental once he had to leave the dorms. He cobbled together an assortment of part time jobs: slinging coffee, restocking the free local newspaper around town, making sandwiches, cleaning kennels, etc. When he dropped one or got fired he just found another, trying to make sure there was at least one where he could get some free food.Stiles bounced around to different neighborhoods staying in short term sublets and couch surfing or spending odd nights in motels. Sometimes he slept in Roscoe if he was too drunk to drive or was short on cash. Luckily, he could always do app deliveries for some fast money, though it’d be gone almost as soon as he earned it. After his last shift he had just enough money to pay his overdue phone bill and get a bottle of shitty vodka before the liquor store closed. He was too busy blacking out to pick up the phone when his father called, but he wouldn’t have answered it any way.   Peter was no longer allowed to accompany other pack members into town after causing more than one scene while doing errands. He got aggressive when strangers got too close to them, telling other shoppers to back off, shoulder checking them, or straight up snarling in a not quite inhuman fashion. That was okay though, he would just concentrate on the house and the preserve and doing his nightly rounds.One weekend he ran into the the McCall boy by the lake with some friends, following him as he went back to get something from his car alone. There was something comforting and almost familiar about him, which was reason enough for his desperate wolf to decide he’d make a good addition to the pack. The wolf was always close to the surface these days and as fangs grew in his mouth he didn’t even pause to consider what he was doing. A bigger pack was a stronger pack and a strong pack meant safety and contentment. If it wasn’t for Cora coming to join that same group of friends he would’ve done something egregious, but she plowed into him just as he was planning to rush over and bite the unsuspecting youth. Cora couldn’t actually win against him one and one, but the tussle was enough to break the spell that had come over him, leaving him horrified and ashamed. That he wasn’t an Alpha and could only have caused injury while revealing the existence of werewolves hadn’t even occurred to him in his near feral state, so insistent was the need. Even then he still argued to an infuriated Talia that she had to give Scott the Bite because he obviously belonged with them.After that he’d been ordered confined to the house and a few surrounding acres of their private property unless escorted by other packmates. He’d thought that only omegas could go feral, but it seemed only a matter of time with the way he could feel himself unraveling with each passing day. Peter wondered how long he had left and if should end it while he still could to spare his family the pain.  
John paced as he set his phone on speaker, too amped up to keep his hands steady while listening to more unconvincing assurances. That “it was always darkest before the dawn” and surely that damned bond would break any day now and they would be done it. He feared that Stiles didn’t have that long.

“Damn it, Talia. I didn’t know that it’d be this, that he’d be so…-broken.-”

“John, I told you what a mating bond was—“

“Yes, but I thought...“

“You thought it would just hurt -Peter- and who cares about him, right?”  she asked sharply.

John grit his teeth and looked down, crossing his arms defensively though she couldn’t see it.

“Forgive me for not being overly concerned about the grown man sniffing after my teenage son!”

“Your now -adult- son, who was very much pursuing him back.”

He exhaled forcefully and ran a hand through greying hair.

“And you’re the one who came to -me- because you didn’t approve either. You said it would make things go back to normal, that he’d get better!”

“The bond is much stronger than I expected, especially for one that has yet to be completed.”

John had a pretty good idea about what that meant and spared a moment for the requisite wince. Stiles’ sex life was the least of his worries now, though.

“Look, forgot about pointing fingers. We both made this decision. The important thing now is fixing it. I might not understand all this bond stuff, but I know what it’s like to watch my wife wither away and iI’ll be damed if I let him—“ The words caught in his throat and he paused to compose himself. “You have to stop this, reverse it, whatever it is you need to do.”

There was a heavy sigh followed by silence. He was about to demand that Talia act or she’d regret it, werewolf or not, but then finally she replied.

“Alright, but you know this means they won’t be parted. And you’ll have to deal with all that entails.”

John sat down in his favorite chair, the one Stiles and Claudia had picked out for him for Father’s Day over a decade ago, and slumped back in resignation.

“God help me, Talia, i’d rather have Peter for a son-in-law than lose my kid.”
  Whatever he’d taken earlier had been a dud and drinking alone still wasn’t enough to drown out his misery, so Stiles popped another colorful pill and swallowed it down with a sickly-sweet shot of cotton candy vodka. He wasn’t sure what it was, but that was part of the fun of the grab bag game and at least the randomly selected chaser wasn’t creme de menthe this time. Would it be a few hours of energy and laughter or chill, dissociative fuzzies or half a day of altered reality? Who knows?!Sooner than expected Stiles found himself vibing again and readily gave in to the waves of sensory delight. Finally he was flying, he was feeling no pain. There was only the beat and the bass and the now.Stiles threw his head back and laughed, winding and whirling through the mass of bodies in shimmery black and indigo, until he was overheated and panting. Dizzy and stumbling, he made it over to the nearest wall and braced against it, following along until he was away from the bright lights. Breathless, he slid down and tipped over in a in a dark corner with his palms trying to grasp onto the sticky floor so he wouldn’t float away. Then floating turned to sinking, a spreading heaviness in his chest and limbs. Seconds stretched, his thoughts slowing as he struggled for air. People laughed and swayed nearby, but he couldn’t move, his weak, garbled cry of alarm swallowed up by layers of noise.
So this is it. 
As terrified as he was, beyond the shame and regret and sorrow washing through him as he thought of his dad getting the news, there was also a sense of relief that all the emptiness was over.But just as his narrowed vision grew dark something shattered inside him, a spark igniting in his aching head, and his eyes flew open with a gasp.

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

Between the full moon, his deteriorating mental state, and the sudden, overwhelming sense that something terrible was happening and he was needed, Peter managed to disobey his Alpha’s order and escape into the night while the others were sleeping. He didn’t know what was calling to him or where he was going, but he took off running beta shifted toward the highway heading west out of town. Peter was near the on ramp when he howled and fell over, struggling to breathe. Limbs flailing, he whined as pain blossomed in his head. Just as he thought his skull would explode the pressure suddenly eased, an odd sensation like one’s ears popping at high altitude. Disjointed images flashed through his mind featuring mischievous doe-eyes and impressions of laughter and affection. Peter wasn’t sure who the person was, but knew that he was someone special and felt compelled to find him.Eventually he tired and changed back to his human form, just lying next to the shoulder of the road and marveling at the snippets of memory he now had access to and more at ease than he’d been in far too long. It was a good thing it was the wee hours of the morning because he didn’t think he could run again just yet if someone called the police on him. Something about that idea was both hilarious and terrifying, but he couldn’t remember why.At first he thought he must’ve been hallucinating when a familiar looking black car squealed to a stop, pulling over beside him. The passenger door flew open to reveal his frowning nephew.“Derek?” he called, voice shakier than he’d like.The younger wolf nodded slowly with exaggeratedly widened eyes and Peter snorted, which set his head to aching again. Fuck. “Well, you comin’ or what?”Peter flipped him off.“I can just go…“ Derek started making as if to reach over to shut the door and smirked when Peter sprang up and staggered over to grab it, wincing. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but what are you doing here?”“Looking for you, obviously. I came downstairs to get something to drink and found the door wide open and you were gone. Figured you’d be going this way, though didn’t expect to find you on the highway.”Right. To take him back to his prison. He tried to think of how to convince Derek otherwise.The car took off as soon as he buckled the seatbelt, but instead of turning around and going back to the house they kept going west on the highway after all. Eyebrows raised, he stared at Derek and waited for him to fill the silence. Peter noted the way his nephew gripped the steering wheel tightly and the uneven breaths he was taking. To most people his expression would seem rather unbothered, but even if Peter wasn’t a werewolf able to hear and scent otherwise he was intimately familiar with the look of Derek’s guilt and discomfort after the Argent mess.“Derek…?” He was answered with a deep sigh.“I know what’s been going on with you.”Derek spent the first hour or so of their journey filling him in about everything that had happened and answering his questions about his mate (He had a mate! Curse Talia to hell ) and then awkwardly started to apologize for himself and Cora.“Hush, nephew. She’s the Alpha and your mother, I understand. I thank the two of you for trying. For this.” When Derek had realized that Peter was gone he’d called Cora, who had already left to hunt for Stiles  a few days ago, but was having trouble tracking him down because he’d moved so many times. Their initial plan was to bring him back to Beacon Hills and stick the two of them in a room together in hopes that would do something, but Peter’s running off changed things. Better to leave now when they had the chance before Talia made leaving the property at all physically impossible with her emissary’s help.The shock of finding out what she and Deaton had done gave way to a simmering rage as the miles passed and he stewed over what that meant for him going forward. He couldn’t be packless for too long and didn’t want to leave his closest family members either, but Peter couldn’t imagine remaining with an Alpha he couldn’t trust with his well being either.A few hours later they met up with Cora, who’d finally found the right place, and pulled up to a rundown building of short-term SROs.Oh dear, he thought, aghast at the idea of his mate living in such an environment. This simply won’t do. The mess inside the room was cause for further disgust and concern, but the space was also imbued with Stiles’ scent, which he couldn’t get enough of despite the layers of grime and distress. Now if only the man himself were there.  Stiles came back to himself to a goth girl with full face makeup peering down at him with concern, which made him question his earthly status for several seconds. After convincing her that he was okay — and then silently freaking out when she left because he knew damn well that he shouldn’t be because he distinctly recalled overdosing — he carefully got up and made his way over to the bar for some water. As he sat there forcing himself to drink it slowly his mind began to clear and Stiles soon realized that that wasn’t all he could remember. “Mother. Fucker,” he spat, tears of fury and betrayal stinging his eyes. Mrs. Hale and Deaton were bad enough (and since when was Scott’s former boss a witch or something?) but his own father too?It was hard to reconcile the imperfect, but loving man he thought he knew with the one who’d helped destroy him so completely.Stiles tried to shove down the hurt down and focus on calming breaths to stave off the rising panic. This was no place to fall apart so he couldn’t think about all of that just yet. He needed to get back to his hovel and see if he could find his phone, which hopefully hadn’t been disconnected yet.Thankfully, it was less than a mile from the club — one benefit of living in the sketchiest part of downtown — and he managed to drag himself there despite feeling like he’d been hit by a bus. It wasn’t even 5 minutes later, while he was still searching through his things and debating whether he needed to sleep for a week or stuff the abyss formerly known as his stomach first, when Cora came bursting through his door. Literally. She’d destroyed at least one set of hinges.“Stiles!” she cried, her happiness at seeing him immediately turning to concern as she assessed him. He watched her back with a raised eyebrow, heart rate slowing.“You know, while I wasn’t at all expecting for someone to come crashing in here, I’m not at all surprised that it’s you.”“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she replied, grinning and taking out her phone. As she caught him up on what happened with Peter and Beacon Hills the anger and resentment churning away beneath the surface came rushing up again. To think that they’d both been suffering so terribly all because his father and Talia Hale decided they didn’t get a say in their own lives, health and happiness be damned.Cora placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.“He’ll be here soon,” she said to calm him. “He was impatient to see you, so they went out searching the area and I stayed here in case you came back. I just ran to the convenience store across the street for some, uh, edible food.”Embarrassed, he took in the condition of the tiny space with its empty cabinets and old take out containers and dirty dishes on every surface. He wasn’t even sure what was still in the in the mini fridge and had no intention of finding out.  “So…you and Peter are the real deal, huh?” Cora asked, breaking the awkward moment with a smirk and wagging her eyebrows.“Yeah, I guess so,” he replied with a goofy smile on his face.“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, but I’m rooting for you anyway.” Cora turned toward the far wall and grinned. “Let’s get you reunited with your old man,” she added loudly.“Hey!” an indignant voice called from down hall, the sound of running footsteps echoing after.Stiles whipped around and by the time he got to his feet Peter was standing in the broken doorway, his hair limp and grown long, his face scruffy and careworn, but beaming. Something electric passed between them as he once again met those piercing blue eyes, now shiny with unshed tears. A sense of rightness settled over him that left no doubt that this was who he’d been longing for all this time.Rooted to the spot, it was left to Peter to close the distance between them, pausing a pace from Stiles with nostrils flaring and head tilted as he scanned him up and down. Peter’s lips pressed into a frown and his eyes flashed bright blue when taking in how he’d lost too much weight and the dark circles under his eyes, but then an even wider smile spread across his face.“Now aren’t you just full of surprises. I figured those hands of yours would be magic, but I wasn’t expecting this.”  He basked smugly, proud and amazed that his mate was even more special than he knew, his memories returning in full once they’d made contact again. Peter didn’t know the particulars — he’d make sure to find someone trustworthy to assess and nurture Stiles’ gift —  but the new scent of magic was unmistakeable to someone of his position and personal interests. There was so much to share and discuss with each other, but all he cared about right then was that he finally had Stiles back in his arms were he belonged. His missing piece. Peter had thought that their initial meeting was intense and the first time they touched even more so, but neither compared to this rebounding of connection after the strain of their ordeal. Anchored, his body thrummed when their bond flared stronger still now that the last of the blockage inside him was swept away. Stiles shook against him, chest heaving with quiet sobs as Peter nuzzled at his temple. “Shh, it’s all over now. I’m here, sweetheart. We’re both here, thanks to you” he murmured, rubbing Stiles’ back as the younger man tried to pull him impossibly closer. Peter hands roamed over his sides and arms, feeling just how thin he’d become and growling lowly.When Stiles’ crying tapered off Peter wiped the tears from his face with a palm and then kissed each cheek, his other hand sliding further down his back to give that cute derriere a squeeze. That’ll get his mind off things, he thought, smirking at the squeak he earned in response.“Annnd that’s our cue to get out of here,” said Cora, exaggeratedly backing away.They pulled apart slightly, the both of them forgetting there was anyone else in the room. Stiles reddened and ducked his head, grinning and flipping Derek off as he made retching noises.“Just ignore them,” Peter said, flicking his wrist. “That’s what I always do.”Derek and Cora had intended to find a motel to give them some privacy, but there was no way in hell that Peter was staying in this dump even if it wasn’t a depression pit. Luckily, Derek had thought to grab his wallet before coming after him so once Stiles packed up some things Peter checked them all into a proper hotel, snagging their best suite for himself and his mate, though it wouldn’t be ready until the afternoon.In the meantime, they were given a room next to his niece and nephew where they ordered  breakfast, took turns in the shower, and got some much needed sleep after their long night. “Presumptuous, aren’t we?” Stiles said, looking around at their new luxurious and clearly romance oriented rooms with awe and nervous-excited energy. It had champagne and roses and the whole nine yards.  “I like to be prepared for any possibility” he replied lightly with a wicked grin.“Mmhmm.” Stiles grabbed his face and peppered him with feather light kisses. Peter let Stiles push him backward and then down onto the nearest piece of furniture, which was fittingly a loveseat, and then he promptly had a lap full of clumsy, beautiful, blessedly legal teenager. He leaned back to look at his mate, charmed by the smattering of dots on his skin.“Not that I’m complaining, but truly, this was not me expecting anything of you. I just prefer not to settle for anything less than the best.”“I suppose there’s a first time for everything,” Stiles said with a crooked smile, looking down and hunching his shoulders as he fidgeted.  “None of that, dear heart,” Peter said softly, trailing his fingertips up and down Stiles’ sides beneath his t-shirt and making him shiver before lifting a hand to tip his chin up. “You are no exception.”Stiles rolled his eyes, but blushed prettily, smelling pleased. “If you say so.”“I do. But if you don’t want to take my word for it…”Peter held him by the hips and pulled down while thrusting upward to press his hardness against him, Stiles making a delightful noise somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.“So, speaking of first times…” Stiles breathed, grinding back and biting his lip.“I’d be happy to oblige you,” Peter said, capturing that sinful mouth for himself and working Stiles’ pants open with one hand, wrapping his fingers around him. He leaned back and watched Stiles’ face as he pumped and twisted, rumbling at his half-lidded gaze and the soft sounds falling from parted lips. Peter grasped his jaw with his free hand and ran his thumb slightly between them, prompting Stiles to suck with a moan.“Going to get you nice and relaxed for me,” he crooned, speeding up his strokes and listing the various ways he planned to have him until he brought Stiles to completion, enthralled by his expressions of pleasure.Peter hummed contentedly as he licked his hand clean.  He was effortlessly picked up and carried over to the enormous bed, where they began to undress.Stiles finished first and sat near the center, hugging his knees and wishing he still looked how he did a year ago even as he was glued to the sight of Peter’s leisurely revealed body. I’m definitely getting the better end of this deal, he thought, eyes widening when his mate stood naked before him, impressively erect. Peter crawled onto the bed and kissed him before grabbing the backs of his thighs just above the knee and pulling, making him fall back onto the dark red sheets with a bouncy “oof,” his legs to either side of the man settling over him a grin. Heat pooled in his belly as Peter licked one nipple and pinched the other before nuzzling into his neck and rumbling while rubbing over his happy trail. “You smell so good.”“You, uh, smell good too,” Stiles said, ruffling Peter’s hair and dramatically sniffing the lemon verbena shampoo they’d used earlier. Peter snorted, lips curling against his skin, and Stiles’ giggling turned to moans when he latched onto his neck, sucking and nibbling. Their shifting around brought Peter’s cock back to his attention as it moved against his thigh and Stiles leaned down to take hold of it, making Peter groan. He paused to spit in his hand and then returned to his languid explorations. Peter rose from his throat and dipped two fingers into his mouth again before reaching below, into his cleft, and rubbing them over and around his entrance, but not quite inside, until Stiles was squirming with need. “Turn over,” Peter said huskily, grabbing one of several pillows and placing it under his hips as he did so. As Stiles got himself comfortable he heard a pleased sound and saw Peter stretching past him to tug the curtains over the headboard to the side, revealing a mirror stretching across most of it. “Oh, this is perfect.”Stiles watched as Peter straddled his legs and blushed as strong hands parted his cheeks, more so as Peter just stared with hungry eyes. He wiggled, willing Peter do something, and the next thing he knew a hot tongue was lapping over him, devouring him.“Oh god,” he cried, clutching the sheets and pressing backward wantonly. Peter continued his ministrations, getting him wet enough to breach with a single finger, which soon lit him up inside with firm, deliberate strokes. Stiles whined when Peter got up to rifle through his bag, returning triumphant with a bottle of lube. “Now, who’s presumptuous,” Peter quipped. He rolled his eyes.  Two slippery fingers slid inside him, alternating between teasing his prostate and stretching his rim, and the anticipation built with his desperate babbling. A third finger entered him briefly, the hand twisting and thrusting carefully   before being withdrawn. Peter slicked himself up and nudged Stiles’ legs further apart, kneeling between them and placing the head of his cock against Stiles’ twitching hole.“Deep breath,” Peter said, their eyes locked in the mirror as he moved. Stiles gasped as he was entered and spread wide while Peter groaned in satisfaction, sinking steadily inside him inch by glorious inch until his hips were flush against him. Stiles was caged in Peter’s arms, back to chest, their breaths syncing as they paused to take in being joined at last. He turned his head, finally breaking their reflected gaze, and fisted a hand in Peter’s hair to bring their lips together. Stiles squeezed around him and Peter deepened the kiss with a growl before starting with slow and shallow rolling thrusts that soon lengthened, driving harder.When Peter pushed up on his hands and picked up the pace Stiles got his knees beneath him and tilted his hips, rocking back and moaning as the change in angle intensified his pleasure. As he started to get close Peter leaned down again and slung his right arm crosswise around him, kneeling up and bringing Stiles with him. Stiles whimpered and threw his head back as Peter impaled him completely with gravity’s aid, the older man pulling out most of the way to plunge back into him over and over again, lightly holding his throat with one hand and stripping his leaking cock with the other.“Look at yourself,” Peter commanded and Stiles lifted his head to see himself utterly debauched and exposed in the reflection as Peter fucked and fondled him, muscles rippling and eyes glowing blue with desire. “Now come for me, my good boy,” Peter purred in his ear, nipping the lobeMoments later Stiles was crying out, spilling over his fingers and clenching around him. Peter withdrew the hand from his neck to take hold of his left forearm, bringing Stiles’ wrist to his mouth. There was a sharp burst of pain as Peter’s fangs pierced him and then waves of ecstasy reverberated between them as Peter came too, continuing to thrust as he filled Stiles with his release.Stiles turned first at the waist and then his head at an angle to where Peter tapped high on the juncture between his neck and right shoulder and bit hard. New sensations and foreign emotions flooded his now expanded awareness as blood dripped onto his tongue and he went boneless in Peter’s arms, content and whole and claimed as his mate finally stilled buried deep inside him.
Mine.

Together.

Home.
 They stayed at the hotel for a week, in no rush to return to the people who’d done them so much harm or to the place where it occurred. He knew that Derek and Cora had made contact with Talia, who would’ve told his father that he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere — or a club — and that Peter was back in his right mind, which was all that they deserved to know, if that. The Hale siblings had driven back the following day after they shared lunch together, teasing them and saying congratulations before leaving them to enjoy the rest of their time sequestered in their own slice of heaven, ordering room service and enjoying each other’s bodies. Peter’s stamina was just this side of daunting, but Stiles was an apt and enthusiastic pupil with some tricks of his own courtesy of the internet and an enviable refractory period. They’d christened every chair and couch, the table, the wall, both the sunken jacuzzi bath and the multi-spray shower, the floor, and the counter between their more thorough sessions in bed.Beyond the fantastic sex, Stiles relished having someone sleeping beside him. Cuddling with limbs interwoven while channel surfing, learning about werewolf stuff, and talking about whatever else came to mind. He’d probably spent hours just staring at his mating bite. Peter had offered to put it somewhere more discreet, but he was proud to show it off and liked being able to see it whenever he wanted — and knew that Peter would too — so anyone who had a problem with it could go fuck themselves. It was a reminder that he truly belonged, both wanted and respected by his bonded partner. Cherished. Anchored. That home was real and anywhere as long as they had each other.Peter sported his own claim high enough to show even when he wasn’t flaunting his glorious chest in a sinful V-neck. Stiles loved to tease the older man about his vanity (and was teased about his own lack of style in return,) but always enjoyed the view. Eventually it was time to face the outside world again and he took a last look around at where his best memories had been made, taking a handful of roses to dry as a souvenir and silently daring his mate to comment on the sentimentality. Peter smirked and did one better by grabbing the robes, stating that he wanted to keep the ones they’d worn together instead of buying them from the gift shop and the hotel would just have to charge him. Most of the drive was pleasant enough despite the whiplash of their alternating musical selections and Peter’s Roscoe slander. (He’d gotten a promise to overhaul his baby rather than replace him out of Peter, so Stiles supposed he was forgiven.) The closer they got to Beacon Hills the angrier he got though, as he finally let himself start to process the reality of what they’d experienced.The violation and loss of autonomy itself and then the severe, life-ruining, nearly life-ending consequences all because those who were supposed to love and protect them the most cared more about control — trying to remake them into something simple and convenient — than their well being. The stubborn refusal to accept the vital nature of their bond or admit the gravity of the situation once their mental and physical health was so greatly affected. “Um, sweetheart, could you pull over?” Peter asked cautiously. Stiles stopped mid-rant and turned to find Peter staring at him strangely. “Suuure,” he replied, slowing and swerving onto the shoulder. “What’s up?”"You’re glowing.”“Yeah, I mean, I’m fucking pissed, man. You wanna take ov—?” “No, Stiles. You’re glowing.”“Wha—“ he started, looking into the rearview mirror to see that he was, in fact, putting on some kind of light show. His irises had turned a bright silver-white and even his skin had a bit of otherworldly shine to it, like he was in an old soap opera.   “Well, that’s new.” Their first stop was the Hale house because it was on the way into town anyway and since he didn’t know what his powers were nor how they might respond to being enraged at someone he figured going off on the werewolf with super healing abilities would be the safer choice. Educational even!They were met by Talia at the end of the driveway, the Alpha apparently ordering the rest of the pack at home to stay in their rooms. She’d wanted to speak to them in her office, but Peter refused, not wanting to step foot in the place were he’d been trapped and betrayed. As much as Stiles wanted to lay into her himself, Peter had first dibs so he hung back as they spoke on the porch, hearing snippets of the exchange between the sudden gusts of wind now whipping intermittently through the nearby trees. “You’re looking well, little brother.”“No thanks to you, Alpha.“...“—to know why?  Because I had something you didn’t? That there was a claim on me outside of your control?”“You must know how it’d look, Peter. How you’d reflect on me, on—“...“What safety?! How was anyone safe with me going feral? I almost—“ Peter yelled....“—unfortunate that you had to go through this, but it all worked out in the end, hmm? Now John understands and there’ll be no trouble from him.”“Oh, well that makes everything alright then!” Peter laughed bitterly. ...“What’s done is done and now we must look to the future. Stiles will join the pack—““Why would he do that?”“Because it’s the best option now, just as the separation was the best option before,” she said, condescendingly....“The separation?!” Oh, is that all? Stiles thought, incandescent with rage. “Enough, Talia!” Peter snarled.The air stilled and Peter’s clenched fists splayed open as his claws erupted, eyes burning with blue fire. “There’s nothing you can say that could justify what you’ve done to us. Attempting to sever a mating bond with neither party’s consent and then standing back to watch us fall apart? That’s unforgivable! Anathema to werewolf kind! The only reason I don’t kill you is your children.”Talia was clearly offended yet had the nerve to laugh. Stiles crept forward silently as she faced Peter directly. “Peter, you can’t beat me.”“Maybe, maybe not,” Peter shrugged. “But we could because you were too proud to have even your Second witness a well deserved tongue-lashing.” “We?” she replied, still smirking as she turned to find Stiles much closer, glaring with bright eyes of his own. She froze, sniffing the air. “What are you?”“Magic, obviously,” he drawled, grinning sharply as Talia bristled. “What else is none of your business.”  The truth was he had no idea, but wouldn’t have told her if he did. She drew herself up, eyes flashing red.“I am the Alpha of Beacon County!“ “Yeah, and I’m the Wizard of Waverly Place,” he replied, shrugging while Peter snickered. Talia gritted her teeth. “Look, as I told him already, I’m willing to accept you as his mate—““You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Stiles said, sharing a glance with Peter. It was clear that she took their reproachment as venting and expected them to accept her non-apology and just let bygones be bygones, but they’d be doing no such thing. “We don’t give a shit if you do or not.”Growling in frustration, she turned back to Peter.“Alright, I get it. You’re still upset. Come inside and we’ll—““No,” Peter said, straightening up.“No?” she asked incredulously, about to wolf out on her brother. “Peter, you will get in this hou—““No,” Stiles repeated, interrupting the Alpha command. His voice boomed, rattling the windows and sending birds flying from the trees.“He’s not yours to command anymore.”  Stiles could see that he was shiny again, the light extending past his skin this time like an aura. Tennis balls and gardening tools and other small, unsecured objects floated in the air around them.Talia was taken aback, but quickly schooled her face into a mask of indifference and waved them off. “We’ll see about that,” she said, backing up slowly. “A wolf needs a pack.”Oh, we will, he promised, staring her in the eye silently before turning and walking away holding hands with his mate. And he’s already got one. “My very own guardian angel,” Peter swooned once they got back to Roscoe. Stiles flushed as he rolled his eyes, letting out a chuckling sigh and relieving some of the tension. “Let’s fly away then,” he said. They arrived at Peter’s apartment and he threw himself on the couch, unwinding for a couple hours before he could bring himself to text Tara about his father’s schedule. She told him that he was currently working an afternoon to graveyard double, but would be off tomorrow and Stiles thanked her with a pit in his stomach. Tara had been excited to hear from him and assumed he was coming home to surprise his dad, which was true enough, just not in the way anyone would’ve wanted. He didn’t have the heart to tell her. The anger he had for Talia Hale was so much simpler than the one he felt for his father, inextricable from the betrayal and sadness, the grief and deep, deep hurt. After enduring the loss of his mother and its fallout — his father’s battle with depression and alcohol abuse and the neglect and disconnection Stiles experienced because of it —  they eventually began to heal and became a team again. Stilinskis against the world. How had it come to this?Peter slept wrapped around him that night and accompanied him the next morning, but stayed in the car. His mate would be there to listen and come in if necessary, but there would be some semblance of privacy and no deflecting from his father. Stiles took a deep breath and opened the door of what used to be his home.  He was too tired to drive safely and got a ride home from their newest hire, Deputy Parrish, so that he could try to get some rest between shifts. As exhausted as he was, once his head hit the pillow in the silent, empty house he couldn’t stop replaying parts of his last conversation — if you could call it that — with Stiles over and over, fearing that it would, in fact, be the last. 
With great effort John dragged his focus away from the strange light emanating from his son and back to what Stiles was saying as he moved in stops and starts around the living room, gesticulating wildly.

“You never even spoke to me about your concerns or attempted to hear what was going on from my end, you just went straight to screwing with my -brain-, my -bond-. What gave you the fucking right?!“ Stiles shouted.

“I believed Talia when she said it was trouble. It sounded like some kind of mystical compulsion. And Peter…He was too old and too...” He gestured vaguely. “And he wasn’t even human—”

"Neither am I,” Stiles sneered. “Not entirely, anyway. And neither is your pal -Talia-, but you didn’t seem to have any problem teaming up with -her-. The Hales have been here forever without hurting anyone who wasn’t trying to hurt them first. Hell, I’ve known Cora for years and haven’t been mauled yet.”

“And you were underage and—“ John tried to continue.

“Oh, -fuck- you.“

He flinched, both at the flash of light that coincided with the words and from the shock at being spoken to that way for the first time. John wanted to be angry, but knew that complaining about being cursed at would do him no favors now.

“It was what, eleven fucking days before my birthday when you took me to be forcibly mind-wiped?”  We hadn’t even -done- anything yet because we wanted to make sure there were no issues.” Stiles laughed bitterly.

“Here I was, taking things slow and complying with the law, hoping for a point in our favor to try to win you over eventually, and you were conspiring against me and deciding that I didn’t get a say in my own life! That what -you- wanted for me mattered more than my happiness.”  The angry tears in his son’s inhuman eyes made his own eyes burn. “You tried to take my -mate- from me,” Stiles hissed, pale energy rising from him like steam.

“You had at least some idea of what that meant and you tried to take him from me. You -did- take him from me. Blocked my bond and took my memory. My -memory-! How could you do that after everything, after Mom...” he trailed off, voice cracking.

John felt two inches tall. The sheer devastation and anger, the utter disgust and betrayal in his son’s voice, was a dagger to the heart. The glow around him dimmed and winked out and while John found the display deeply unsettling, seeing him crying and deflated was worse.

“Stiles, I’m so, so sorry. I was just…I didn’t know what to do—“ He reached a tentative hand toward him, but was rebuffed, his boy shaking his head and moving away.

“Not -that-! I was losing my -mind-, Dad. For a whole year we suffered. I, -your son-, suffered and you let it go on and on until it would’ve been too late because you didn’t like my “boyfriend” or whatever and wanted to ruin the best thing in my life. I almost -died-. I probably did, technically.”

“What?! What do you mean?” John asked, horrified. He knew things were bad and getting worse, which is why he tried to call it off, but he hadn’t heard anything about dying or nearly dying.

“I OD’d last week, the same night Peter came to find me. If I didn’t just so happen to have magic thanks to Mom — great job trying to keep me from the supernatural, by the way — I’d be dead and buried.”

The words “Dead and buried,” echoed in his head and the tears finally ran down his face. 
 
John turned over again and adjusted his pillow, struggling to get comfortable.

He’d tried to find some solace in having convinced Talia to undo what they’d done, in -wanting- to do better in the end, but it hadn’t mattered in actuality. He’d almost killed his boy and it was only the powers Stiles inherited from Claudia (and he was still trying to process all of -that-) which saved him. Saved Peter. The only thing he’d accomplished was going along with screwing everything up in the first place.
All he could do was hope that one day, however distant, he’d be granted some forgiveness, but even then he knew their relationship would never be the same.  He moved Stiles into his apartment, renting a pick-up and helping him collect his things, plus a few of his mother’s, one afternoon while the sheriff was at the station. Peter held him as he cried afterward, his heart breaking for his mate when he shared how of all the ways he’d feared losing his dad over the years — getting shot, a car accident, a heart attack, falling badly down the stairs and hitting his head during those months when he was always drunk — he’d never imagined this. John being alive, but not in his life.A few weekends later they celebrated Stiles’ 19th birthday with Derek and Cora by going bowling of all things, followed by dinner back at their place. Listening to the three of them argue over movies and laugh while he cooked  — a creamy mushroom risotto with grilled skirt steak and pan-fried Brussel sprouts with bacon, Parmesan, and a squeeze of lemon paired with Cabernet Sauvignon and sparkling pomegranate juice — reminded Peter of when he first met Stiles before everything went to hell. He passed it off as the onions when he teared up at the now bittersweet memories, but took comfort in the fact that he could remember and that this time there was no fear or hiding what he truly felt.After a dessert of Derek’s triple chocolate brownies and Stiles’ favorite ice cream (cookies & cream) Peter gave him his gift: a hand printed business card with the name Rufus LaSalle. When he explained that the half-fae mage was going to be his magic teacher Stiles excitedly tackled him onto the couch, kissing him ardently.“Annnd that’s our cue to get out of here,” Cora and Derek said in unison, the former snagging a handful of brownies before fleeing.  A few minutes later he was being handsomely rewarded with a most beautiful sight, Stiles on his knees before him, licking those lovely Cupid’s bow lips as he leaned down to take him into his mouth. “Fuck,” Peter cursed, grasping the fuzzy back of Stiles’ newly shorn head as his hips jerked forward. Stiles looked up at him and grinned widely around his cock, pulling back to flick the slit with his tongue and sucking the head, lapping firmly over the underside, before engulfing him down until it touched the back of his throat. Peter vocalized incoherently and splayed his fingers up as claws slid out from their tips. Stiles moaned at the hint of sharpness against his scalp — the sound vibrating pleasurably through Peter’s body — and redoubled his efforts. Saliva streamed as he alternated sliding up and all the way  back down several times with pumping the shaft with his hand.  God, Peter didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Stiles’ minimal gag reflex, but he would never fail to be appreciative.“That’s right, sweetheart. So good for me, so perfect. You were made to suck my cock, weren’t you?” he effused, spreading his thighs wider and thrusting in time with Stiles’ rhythm. “To be filled with my cum.”  Stiles nodded, watery dark amber eyes going silver-white, and Peter growled possessively at having such power at his service, caressing a hollowed cheek with his palm. His very own magical angel, exquisite and obscene. He was sent over the edge when another hand snuck down to massage his sack, his balls drawing up in Stiles’ hold as they emptied down his throat. Peter moaned, twitching as Stiles first swallowed around him and then pulled back to suck at the tip of his cock until every drop was gone.“Thanks for the presents, babe,” Stiles rasped impishly. Peter sighed and then shook his head with a smile, knowing there was a 90% chance that he was about to be subjected to a dramatic rendition of “Dick in a Box.” He had the joy of watching his mate flourish, studying magic and experimenting with his power. Once Stiles had enough control and experience his first priorities were defensive magic and creating their own pack bond so that Peter had no need to stay tied to his sister in any way, shape or form.Talia had made more overtures, sending members of the pack to woo him back and bring Stiles into the fold, but she never truly apologized or took responsibility for her actions. It was always “I’m sorry that you went through that” and not “I’m sorry for what I did to you, which was wrong,” and so he was completely done with her. It was extremely satisfying to see the true fear in her eyes the day they went to inform her that he was no longer her Beta. Peter had informed her that they’d be coming to make an important announcement and she’d gathered the pack, assuming he was coming crawling back to her after his “tantrum” and adding a valuable new member to her ranks.When they explained otherwise, that it was both closure and a courtesy so that no one would think he’d died when the bond broke, she tried to force Peter to stay. Roaring, Talia shifted into her Alpha form to cow him only to wind up dangling several feet in the air. Muzzled and immobile, she could only watch helplessly as Stiles blocked Deaton from using his slower, weaker ritualistic magic and then detached her pack bond right there, replacing it with his own. Peter’s schadenfreude was off the charts when Stiles left her there for good measure, setting the hold to dissipate after a couple hours so she “could think about what she’d done” while her Betas looked on. Laura had returned from her two years abroad at the beginning of summer and from the disapproval in her eyes Peter wouldn’t be surprised if there was a change in leadership sooner rather than later. As for Deaton, his shielding would also wear off…eventually.Sheriff Stilinski, on the other hand, had actually apologized — the haggard man both admitting fault and expressing regret, including personally to Peter as well — but Stiles was still too upset to have contact with him and surely would be for quite some time. Knowing how much his father had meant to him, Peter hoped that eventually they could have some sort of reconciliation for Stiles’ own sake, but if not he’d just have to love him that much more.To no one’s surprise, they decided to leave Beacon Hills behind later that summer, spending several months touring around the country and crossing the border a few times to visit Mexico and Canada. They found a perfect patch of territory in Colorado straddling the boundary of city and wilderness to call their own and once they’d settled in Derek and Cora came to join them. His niece and nephew were much better suited to the kind of pack he and Stiles intended to have and had lost all faith in their mother as Alpha. They knew that their father and most of the others would back Laura when the time came, so they didn’t feel obligated to stay there in the meantime when there was now another option. With enough members to properly stabilize a normal pack bond, Peter soon went from being their de facto Alpha to being an Alpha in truth. He’d been prepared to seek out some rogue that everyone would approve of killing, but while he was confident in his success, such a mission was not without risk to himself and the others.Luckily, Rufus connected them with an alternative: an elderly Alpha who was ready to join his granddaughter-in-law’s pack as a Beta and would be giving up his spark. There was a brief ceremony with both packs before the transference and then Peter stood with clawed hands slightly piercing Alpha McDaniel’s chest and the back of his neck. Eyes closed, he focused on pulling an imaginary red substance while the other imagined pushing out the same until he felt it “catch,” at first slowly and then all at once.   Peter roared as he was imbued with power, his body reconfiguring in ways both subtle and profound, and opened crimson eyes. Back at their home that evening they formally accepted each other as Alpha and Betas and celebrated into the night, his mate eventually stealing him away for some more private fun. Between kisses Stiles asked, semi-seriously, if having an Alpha shift meant that he now had a knot and Peter pretended to be confused and offended so that shortly after there was a hilarious and happy surprise for his kinky, pretending-not-to-be-disappointed mate. Later, as they laid tangled in bed, Stiles joked that they could always murder someone next week since Peter missed out on that tradition, but he was glad that their new life together began on a lighter, peaceful note. They’d both had enough of pain.