Peter knew that he should've stayed with the pack but his window of opportunity had been too good to resist. After saying goodbye to Bones who gave him his number, Peter sneaked out to his motorcycle and zoomed off, knowing full well that his nephew would be too occupied with the young werefox to realize his absence.
For the last day, his mind had been nagged by the feeling that Stiles was more involved with his past than he had previously thought. He kept popping up in memories where he shouldn't be at all. Like at pack dinners with Talia and his nephews and nieces when they were younger. It was disorienting to a disturbing extent and every time that he tried to concentrate on a memory, it would get fuzzy and his head would start to hurt.
So the only person that could answer his questions was...himself. After the fire, while he had been in the hospital, his belongings had been moved to a warehouse along with all of the other Hale stuff. After he had woken up, Peter couldn't stand even going near it, because it was too painful.
But now.... now he had to find out what was happening to his head. And the only way to figure that out was to go through his old journals and see what had really happened. Peter had his suspicions that someone had magically tampered with his head but Peter knew that his journals would get him back on track.
As sign by sign flew past him on the highway, Peter's heart began to pound in his chest. It had been so long since he had seen any of the remains of the old Hale House. The day Peter had turned good Derek had given him the key to the storage unit where all the old stuff was. The older werewolf had put off looking at it, mostly because there was so many monsters that had come through town but also because of the amount of emotional baggage that came with reliving the past through burned furniture and photo albums.
"When did I become so sentimental." Peter scoffed as he made a sharp right into the storage place. The sign in front of the building was an annoying bright orange that contrasted against the ugly pasty color of the building which had definitely seen better days. Peter sneered as he parked his bike next to the door.
The bell let out a sharp ring as he pushed open the door to a smelly room.
The man inside was smoking a cigarette and he lazily looked up at the werewolf, not even bothering to put down the magazine he was reading. The scent of smoke set Peter's nerves on edge.
"Can I help you?" the man drawled, looking expectantly at Peter with a bored look.
"I need to get a storage unit but I don't know where it is. It's A 25.9." Peter said stiffly. The guy rolled his eyes as he let out a yawn and tilted his head to the wall next to him where a framed map was hung. It was faded with time and barely looked to be accurate.
"It's in Lot A, section 25, 9th unit. It's not that hard to figure out."
It took Peter a good thirty seconds to convince himself not to paint the walls of this appalling office with the blood of this insubordinate human. He had to remind himself that he wasn't a psychopathic killer anymore.
"Thank you." Peter smiled tightly. The man rolled his eyes and returned to his magazine. Peter left the office as fast as his werewolf feet could carry him.
In the end, it wasn't hard to find the storage unit. It only took some minimal look over at all the faded signs. Peter was loath to admit that his hand shook as he slid the key into the lock. He could feel his heartbeat in his hands, thumping with every second that passed.
He almost fell to his knees as the door slid up to reveal the contents inside. There was burned furniture in there, ranging from the couch his sister had been ridiculous about buying, the frames of the beds to the twin nieces who hadn't survived the fire, a photo half burned where the whole Hale family had posed for, and boxes of other stuff that belonged to the family that had once resided in Beacon Hills.
Peter couldn't help the sharp grieved sound that escaped his throat as he leaned against the wall on weakened knees. Every little thing that his eyes wandered over brought memories of his family being happy— being alive. As tears blurred his vision, a deep and sudden anger filled him, his claws coming out. This is why he hated hunters. They were stupid idiotic narrow-minded fools who were too scared to realize the horror of their actions. His family was more than just werewolves. His brother in law had been human. His grandniece was human. And they were dead because those goddamn hunters were trigger happy monsters to desperate to believe that something that wasn't exactly like them had to be exterminated.
The older werewolf shakily walked to one of the boxes, tearing it open, and he almost howled in grief. At the very top of random items that was in the box was his son's favorite toy. His son's favorite toy. Peter gently took the stuffed wolf out and slid down to the floor, pressing his nose against the fabric...
He froze.
There wasn't a smell of fire. Or smoke.
Peter's heart froze and he pressed his nose harder into the toy but the smell wasn't there. It wasn't there. His hands shook as he looked at the toy. He knows that this was his son's toy. His son who had died in the fire. Why wasn't there the smell of fire and smoke?
Dropping the toy, Peter shot himself towards the box and the first thing he saw was one of his journals. He grabbed it with an almost angry desperation and flipped it to one of the last entries.
Talia will regret this- I'll make sure of it. It's bad enough that she's Alpha although I'm the older of the two, but now she wants to take the ONE thing that stops me from going crazy— the one thing that's good in my life...But let's ignore me for a second—How could she do this to Genim?
"Genim." Peter softly mouthed and then suddenly his head exploded with pain, not even giving Peter time to clutch his head before he was falling to the floor with blackening vision.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
After everyone had helped to clean up, the pack went to the Hale House. The groceries had been put up and everyone was taking showers while Stiles watched television in the living room. It had been a long day and everyone was just ready for bed.
Derek thankfully had his own shower so he didn't have to wait on other people like the rest of the pack, but as he was reaching for the gel he usually styled his hair with, his eyes caught the sight of the hairspray Isaac used for his hair. The pack was always leaving their stuff in his restroom even when he told them that this was his restroom. He was about to roll his eyes and ignore it when the sudden image of Stiles touching Isaac's hair fondly filled his mind.
Stiles had said he liked Isaac's hair.
Would Stiles like his hair if it was styled like Isaac's?
Derek paused for a second, his hand wavering between the gel and hairspray. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. It wouldn't look the same. Isaac had naturally curly hair and his was straight. But.... Stiles liked Isaac's hair. Derek licked his dry lips and without giving it a second thought grabbed Isaac's hairspray. It shouldn't be that hard. It was fairly simple.
This was the train of the thought that led to Derek staring at himself hopelessly in the mirror with hair in uncomfortable hard shelled strands of hair that stuck up in random angles. He was about to try another part of his hair when the door to the bathroom suddenly opened.
Derek froze as Isaac walked in, a question halfway out of his mouth.
"Hey, have you seen my hairsp—" Isaac stopped as he saw Derek leaning over the sink with his hairspray in his hand, with a guilty and desperate look on his face. The beta opened and closed his mouth several times
"What.... I don't even know what to say."
Derek flushed a deep red and scowled.
"I was just...curious." The Alpha said weakly.
Isaac raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. Derek sighed.
"I was...trying to impress Stiles, because he liked your hair...so I thought..." Derek mumbled. Isaac let out a snort and bent over double laughing.
"Derek, you just had to ask for help. I can't believe Stiles has you this wrapped around your finger." Isaac sniggered. The Alpha growled menacingly at him but the effect was lost with the ridiculous hair on Derek's head. "Do you want me to help you?"
The Alpha scowled but nodded.
Isaac made him wash his hair again to get all the product out of his hair. Then he made Derek sit down on a chair in front of the mirror. It only took him ten minutes and Derek had a similar hairstyle to Isaacs, but it wasn't hard shelled like it had been at the beginning. It was soft and styled like Isaac's.
"Thank you, Isaac." Derek breathed as he touched his hair lightly. Standing up, Derek turned around and drew in the beta into a hug, scenting him by dragging their cheeks together making Isaac let out a satisfied hum.
"Come on. Everyone's already downstairs, watching Lazy Town with Stiles."
"Lazy Town?" Derek frowned.
Isaac shrugged. "It's your mate, Derek. He's really weird."
The two of them headed down and Derek's wolf rumbled in contentment to see his pack all around the living room, the smell of satisfaction permeant in the air. Erica currently had Stiles in her lap, his back to her chest, while she was in a similar position with Boyd, leaning back against him. Lydia was sitting on one of the couches, looking at the kitchen where Jackson was getting snacks. Scott was sleeping face down on the floor, his mouth open with drool forming a pool. The only one missing was Peter, but Derek knew his uncle had a tendency to sneak off and do whatever he does.
Stiles who had been looking at the TV with half lidded eyes brightened visibly and turned to Derek.
"Derek!" He smiled and jumped from Erica's lap to the Alpha who caught him easily. Stiles wrapped his skinny arms around Derek's neck and rubbed his cheek energetically against Derek's neck. Then he leaned back in Derek's arms and looked up at his hair. The werefox grabbed his face and turned it from one side to the other, and the Alpha shifted nervously waiting for Stiles' assessment on his hair. As Stiles ran his hand through Derek's new hair, the alpha couldn't help the pleased purr that escaped his throat. Stiles giggled.
"Your hair is so soft. I like it." Stiles kissed Derek on the cheek. "My husband is the handsomest person in the world." Derek lifted one side of his mouth in a smile. Isaac walked past them beyond Stiles peripheral and lifted both of his thumbs.
"Der, can we do a pack cuddle?" the young werefox pouted his lip and Derek nodded. Everyone scrambled to drag down the blankets that were on the couches to the floor, tucking them in around Scott who remained sleeping through the whole ordeal. Stiles was the first to settle in, dragging down Isaac with him. The blond chuckled and settled in front of Stiles. Derek was the next one and he settled behind Stiles, wrapping a secure arm around the him. The others squeezed in, intertwining legs and wrapping arms around each other. Scott had let out a confused noise, but Erica shushed him, patting his face. It only took a little while before everyone was dead asleep.
Derek frowned just as he slipped into unconsciousness. There was something wrong from one of the pack members. The drowsiness won over the concern and Derek fell asleep
It was dark when Derek felt himself being jostled awake. He jerked, his eyes snapping open to meet with those of the illuminating blue of his uncle. Blinking as he let out a yawn, he slowly detangled himself from Stiles' grip around his arm and Scott's legs intertwined with his. Peter signaled him desperately to come with him to the kitchen and Derek could smell grief and desperation on his uncle. That woke him up and he quickly stood up and followed Peter into the kitchen.
"Peter? Where were you?" Derek frowned and Peter had his back to him, one hand running through his hair. "Peter?"
The werewolf turned around and there were tears in his uncle's eyes.
"Derek...I didn't have a son." Peter's breath was unsteady. "Stiles.... Genim.... Genim is my son."
A/N: My peoples, THERE WILL BE STEREK. TRUST ME AND CONTINUE READING! I am so mean. I left you with yet another cliffhanger. And a confusing one at that. This time I mean it. Next chapter will finally reveal the whole deal with Peter and his memories. Man, I've been planning this since forever and it's coming out so much better than I hoped.
Please comment below things you would like to see! I am always open to suggestions!
Currently Listening to: Hotel California by the Eagles.
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A Place to Hide Away- Sterek
FanfictionStiles gets turned into a werefox child with no memory of anything beyond the age of five (and a half, thank you very much). So when he smells the scent of home and security, naturally he follows it and finds himself face to face (or rather face to...
