˚ ༘ ✶ ₊ ˚. ི CHAPTER 15.
࿐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᴶᵉᵉᵖ
"BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT DONOVAN— I OWE HIM."
You would've thought Peter had just grown four heads. Stiles ogled him with such a look of ridicule. His mouth opened and closed, trying frantically to understand. How could Peter owe anything to Theo? How could Peter owe anyone anything? If the world spun correctly, everyone would be trying to be worthy of being around Peter. Be worthy of having someone like Peter i'm their lives. Someone so... innocent.
But now Peter feels tainted. Stained and ruined.
Stiles cranes his head to Theo. The ruiner, the tainter, Everything wrong with Stiles' relationship. A huff leaves his lips with an uncontrollable growl, shoving past Peter as he grips Theo by the front of his shirt. With an reflex of strength and pent up frustration from not seeing Peter in several days— Stiles slams Theo up again to the fence of the generator cage.
"You don't owe him anything. He doesn't know anything." Stiles spat, narrowing his eyes at the golden eyed werewolf in front of him. Stiles didn't give a flying shit if Theo had super strength. He was pretty sure that if Theo even looked at Peter Parker the wrong way— he'd tear his tongue out.
Theo looked at Stiles warily. "I know what happened to Donovan. I know everything." He twists them around, pushing Stiels against the chain link. "I was there. I was at the library. Malia found the book. She was texting us to see where you were. She said she left you at the library. I told her I was close. When I got there, I heard the scaffling come down."
Stiles dug his eyebrows in. "You saw him?"
"Saw Peter and you. I saw you come out and Peter looked like he'd seen a freakin' ghost. And then the body was gone."
The heated discussion was cut off by the harsh squeal of police sirens nearing. Peter winced, just barely, but Stiles noticed. Stiles always noticed those things, it seemed, but he decided against saying anything.
"That's not an ambulance, is it?" Stiles asked rhetorically.
Theo let go of Stiles shirt and separating, Stiles unconsciously gravitated toward the spider boy, and almost grabbing his hand. But he caught himself, thankfully, before this entire night got entirely too awkward to stand.
"We should get out of here." Theo made for the door, Stiles nodding slowly and beginning to follow before they both noticed Peter hadn't moved an inch. "Peter?"
Stiles glared at Theo just saying his name.
Peter didn't take his eyes off the dead body. "We can't just leave him." It came out as a whisper, but it wasn't a question. With or without them, Peter wasn't leaving this kid, no matter if the cops found him or not. He'd left Donovan, and now his family couldn't mourn with a body.
Theo sighed, turning back. "Fine. All right, let's take him. Someone's stealing the bodies anyway, right? Here's our chance to find out who." He saw Stiles' hesitation. "Stiles, come on, he's right. We gotta do something."
Stiles seriously couldn't figure this kid out. Up and down, left to right, Theo was throwing signals he couldn't understand. The game he was playing, he was insanely good at it and it irked Stiles to the core. "You killed him. Now you wanna use him?"
"In self-defense." Theo didn't miss a beat. "He was going to kill you and me. If we stay, we're either going to have to tell the truth, or we're going to need a pretty convincing story. It's your choice-- I'm not going to ask you to lie to your dad."
And it wasn't Theo that convinced him. As soon as he stopped talking, Peter looked at Stiles. Their eyes met, and Stiles would've spilt the ocean if Peter asked. There were almost tear in the Parker's eyes, a sadness that Stiles had nightmares about. Peter wasn't the same kid Stiles met, and Stiles didn't know how to fix it— or even how to start. A sigh left his lips, and he stepped back towards the body. "Don't worry... I've had plenty of practice."
They'd bring the body to the veterinarian clinic, the safest place in Beacon probably for anyone of the supernatural side of things. And now they just waited in the parking lot— for what, they weren't exactly sure of that either.
They just... waited for Scott to show. Awkwardly, Stiles and Peter standing an odd distance like complete strangers and Theo like he was the only one who wanted to be there.
Pulling the sheet back, Scott peering down at the cold body, it made Peter want to be sick all over again. At least with Donovan, he didn't have to see the body over and over again. There's blood drying down the sides of the boys face, eyes shut almost peacefully. No pain, no anger— but no life.
Theo sees recognition. "Did you know him?"
Walking around the side, Scott looks at the boy on the table sadly. "His name's Josh. He was a junior." Scott misses the look Theo gives both Peter and Stiles, before the latter rolls the sheet back over his face. Scott looks back up. "Which one did it? The one with the cane?"
Another look. "Yeah..."
Stiles tries to keep things moving along. Josh is dead, no need to mull over it longer than they needed to. Everyone already has their plates full. "What are we going to do with him? We can't just set the alarm and leave, that's how Tracy disappeared." His hands fiddle with each other, something he didn't do much with Peter. Usually Stiles would mess with Peter's hands or hoodie string— that wasn't an option. "Someone's got to stay here with him."
"I'll do it." Theo speaks up. "It's not like I had a big Saturday night planned."
Scott's phone buzzes, cutting through the unbearable tension between all four boys.
Stiles tilts his head up. "What is it?" His voice filled with a bit of dread, seeing as the bad news never seemed to end nowadays.
"Another one. Another Chimera."
Scott doesn't wait much longer and raced the door, knowing speed limits didn't mean much to Stilinski's anyway. And Stiles only hesitates because Peter didn't jump to move like he did. Furrowing his brows, he looked back to the boy. "Pete..."
Peter waves him off. "Go help Scott. I'll wait here with Theo until you get back."
"That's funny. Good one. Almost forgot how funny you were."
But no one laughs. "I'm being serious. Scott needs you."
It's insinuating that Scott doesn't need Peter. It's deeper than Peter means to go, but he can't take it back either. He can't erase the look on his face that believes him being around Scott— it's pointless. It's dangerous even, for Peter to be around anyone other than Theo.
Stiles shrugs, gesturing him foreword. "And I'm pretty sure Theo wants to eat you." Peter walks towards the door, shoving Stiles out. "Wha— why are you pushing me? No, don't— stop pushing me, I'm not— Peter! Just— fine! Fine! I'm going. I'm going— just— don't talk to him. No words, silence. Don't even look at him. Okay?"
Peter doesn't say anything, just a expectant look.
"Does that look mean you're not gonna talk to him?"
"It means go."
Theo groans, shoving Peter out right behind him. "Both of you just go, I can handle this for half an hour. Just go."
Isntnsrly, Stiles points at Theo with almost a giddy excitement, more emotion (other than stress) he's shown most of today. "Better plan. I like that one. First good idea you've had."
Peter glances to Theo, pure concern in his expression. It's Peter Parker, someone who just wants everyone to be okay. "You'll be okay? You sure?"
"He'll be peachy."
Theo smiles, and wraps Peter in a warm hug— one that makes Stiles go feral on the inside. "I'll be fine, Pete. Don't take too long." He smiles slightly, and leaves for the clinic with only a lingering touch. The same kind he's learned from Peter and Stiles, watching them interact before Donovan. Theo's a visual learner, and he's learned from the master on how to get close to Peter.
And then the awkward couple is gone hurtling down the road in a rickety jeep, one Peter missed so much, and they're gone.
༺
SATURDAY MORNING COMES TOO EARLY FOR PETER'S LIKING. Sleep is fruitless at this point, and not even an option after seeing Hayden last night. Terrified of her own reflection, confused and afraid. He knows the feeling, more than most would think.
And after he'd left Scott's, Stiles insisted on driving Peter home— just like old times. But unlike those times, there was no make-out in the apartment parking lot and holding hands up the stairs to the Parker door. Instead, it's deadly quiet and Peter looks out the passenger window the entire trip. And Stiles doesn't even get to park in a spot before Peter is out the door and taking four steps at a time up to his apartment.
They're both hurting and they have no one to go to.
Aunt May tries to have a conversation, but it's short lived and she lets it slide, knowing it has to do with Stiles to some extent. She remembers that heartbreak, her first one, it's one of the most painful. So she lets him escape her clutches and disappear into the bathroom to shower (sit on the floor and cry) and then to his bedroom for much needed sleep (staring at the ceiling and more crying).
And then he sneaks out in the long awaited morning only levering a note on the counter.
helping malia with spanish
- peter
Short, sweet, and nothing more. There's no nickname, there's no smiley face or tiny heart. If Aunt May was a psychiatrist, she might take this as a sign. He's a shell of himself, pulling away from the things that make him happy, from the things that make him— him.
And then he's back in the school library like he never left, tired and drained of energy, staring at a map of Beacon County. Stiles doesn't ask how he got there, knowing it'll only hurt to hear the answer 'I walked' coming from Peter's mouth.
"We're back to telluric currents?" Stiles says instead.
Scott shrugs, and picks up on the subliminal message to ignore how Peter's been acting recently. "If the Dread Doctors didn't like coming into Eichen House because of them, maybe we can use them to protect Hayden."
Stiles nods, holding a hand on his hip and another hand rubbing his lips in an anxious tick. "Okay, so besides Eichen, where's the strongest convergence?"
"We're standing on it."
Beacon Hills High School highlighted on the map in three colors, matching colors as Eichen across the map. Stiles furrows his brows as he meets Scott's gaze. "You want to hide her in the high school? For how long?"
Peter peeks around them— paranoia.
"If we have to... All night." Scott answers curtly. "Liam convinced Hayden not to say anything to her sister yet. She's working a double tonight, and she thinks Hayden's staying at a friend's."
Peter narrows his eyes, "But it's just a school, though, you know? It's not exactly a fortress..." Stiles nods, thinking the exact same thing.
But Scott has a plan for that too. "Lydia's got an idea for that. Remember how Valack quoted Tesla?"
Stiles thinks for a second. "Frequency and vibration..."
"She thinks he wasn't just saying that to sound smart— she thinks maybe it was a clue."
"To do what?
"Disrupt their frequency."
Stiles and Peter venture back to the clinic to check on Theo, mostly Peter reminding Stiles that they do need to go back and do so. Pete already feels bad leaving Theo there almost an entire day while the rest of them play Nancy Drew at the school on the Saturday— where there are a suspicious amount of students loitering around.
Peter's out of the Jeep and entering the clinic before Stiles can even put it in park. And Stiles knows it's not because Ed exited to see Theo— Peter just wants to get away from Stiles. The bells above the door jingle, and the body is still there.
Peter calls out into the barren clinic. "Theo?"
Speak of the devil and he shall arrive— curling around the corner with furrowing brows. "Pete? What's going on?"
The Stilinski pushes past, trying not let Theo get to him. The nickname calling and the faux looks of concern are becoming more than agitating and Stiles can't stop worrying that it's working on Peter. But there's bigger issues at hand. "Whoever's stealing the bodies probably isn't going to do it while we're standing guard over one of them."
"So you've got a better idea?"
Stiles searches for the best spot, pulling his phone from his pocket and sliding up to the camera function. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, balancing it against the shelf and its contents so the camera records the examination table.
The three boys pile into the Jeep, and as Stiles sets up the watch with the second screen on the rear view mirror— Peter reminisces. Peter missed the Jeep, to say the least. It hasn't been that long, not really. But going cold turkey for even a few days had Peter feeling withdrawn. The passenger seat had caved just right to fit him comfortably, the seat in the perfect position so Peter could see and also be at the exact angle where Stiles had freedom to hold his hand or his leg.
And Stiles still had the collage of things hanging from his rear view mirror— a friendship bracelet Peter had made and the clip broke so he couldn't physically wear it anymore, his parking pass, six old air fresheners, as well as a handmade Spider-Man keychain Stiles made before he even knew Peter. Stiles planned to hang his graduation tassel there as well with Peter's. And if you breathed on the back right window, you'd see a heart with an S and P finger-written inside of it.
Peter missed Stiles. Maybe that's why he missed the Jeep so much. He missed the smell of it, how it had really soaked up the cologne Stiles wore and a little bit of Scott's. It was worn and torn, distressed from years of thorough use— and those backseats had definitely seen some sinful things that made Peter blush.
"So what happens now?" Theo hums, leaning on the shoulders of the two front seats.
Stiles shrugs. "We wait."
"You want to take shifts watching?"
Stiles scrunches his nose and peeks in the rear mirror to meet Theo's gaze. "No... No, I want to spend some quality time with you. Pete, you wanna take a nap?"
Peter leans his head back, and keeps his eyes on the windshield, trying to ignore everything around him and keep his knee from bouncing anxiously. "Leave me out of this."
But that's quite impossible for Stiles. "This is good. You know, you up here in the front and not in the back. Theo— you can stay back there, probably some stale french fries if you get hungry."
Theo hums rather unsatisfied. "Hmm. Cool."
And there's spotty conversation, mostly about the air temperature and radio volume. But Stiles' arguments are always something about Peter, knowing that any volume over six hurts his ears, and air too cold makes his skin itch. It's spider things, things Theo wouldn't know— he says.
Doesn't matter, Peter's still uncomfortable.
But it's about two hours into sitting in the Jeep with the most fun people on the planet— and Peter is actually starting to think he'd have more fun at the high school with Scott, Malia, and all those party people. Not this.
And Theo mentions the elephant in the car.
"You still wondering why I haven't said anything to Scott?"
"Maybe."
Throwing his head back against the headrest, Peter lets out a harsh sigh. "Can we talk about anything else? At all?"
But it's like Peter isn't even in the Jeep anymore, like he's too far away. And now all Stiles cares about it answers. Theo narrows his eyes, "You think I have some kind of ulterior motive?"
Stiles nods curtly. "More than likely."
Theo looks back to the center of the windshield. "Would you believe me if I said all I want— all I've ever wanted— is for you guys to trust me?"
"Nope."
He lifts his brows, "So, you're here because you're never going to trust me. Even after I helped Peter?"
Ding ding ding! Fifty points to Theo. Stiles nods, "Yep. Glad we had this talk." He looks over his shoulder. "And I'm thinking about taking your name privileges. You— just don't even look at Peter. No saying his name, no thinking about him, nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Keep your trap shut?"
And a small smile grows from the corners of Theo's mount. "You know who you remind me of?"
He sighs in exasperation. "Theo, I don't care."
"My sister. She was smarter than everyone, too. And a pain in the ass like you. But she always looked out for me— the same way you look out for Peter and Scott." And Stiles has nothing to say to that. "You know, I was the one that found her body. She'd fallen into a creek, broken her leg... They told us she would've been okay if it wasn't one of the coldest nights of the year... If it wasn't for the hypothermia. And when I found her, all I could think was that I should've known. That I should've been looking out for her."
Stiles shakes his head slightly. "Why are you telling me this?"
It's convincing as all hell. "I'm telling you because even if you don't trust me, and even if you don't like me, I'm still going to be looking out for you guys."
And then it goes quiet once again.
Another hour it seems floats by— and then tense silence is cut by the ring of a cellphone, Peter pulling the buzzing device out of the cupholder and groaning as he sees his aunt's photo on the screen with her contact name. Quite possible the worst time— of course. "Oh geez, it's May."
Stiles gestures outside the door. "Go answer it. I promise I won't kill him if you're gone two minutes. Maybe."
Peter gives him a wary look. "You sure?"
"Yes. Please— answer it."
He reluctantly sighs, and climbs out of the Jeep passenger side, sliding the answer button as he does and pressing the phone to his ear. Stiles only hears a sliver of his aunt over the phone, her kind voice, one he missed every now and then. It's cut off, the door shutting roughly, and the Jeep falling back into silence for only another second.
Theo speaks up this time. "You know, I saw his teeth. Donovan. He was a Wendigo, wasn't he?"
"Yeah." Stiles mumbles, eyes still following Peter as he paces the parking lot as he speaks on the phone to his aunt. It's one of many times he wishes he had super-hearing, wondering if Peter was talking about him.
"The cannibal one?"
"Native American." He finally sits back normal, facing the windshield in front of him. "The myth says that if you ate human flesh, your punishment was to turn into a creature that constantly craved it."
Theo winces. "That's a pretty judgmental myth."
"Well, I didn't make it up."
And Theo thinks on it for another second, "What if it was the only way to survive? I mean, you ever hear of the Donner Party? I'm pretty sure they didn't turn into Wendigos..."
Stiles shrugs, very plainly not in the mood to chit chat with Theo and way more interested in why Peter was so buddy buddy with him all of a sudden. "Well, they didn't live in Beacon Hills."
"So, what's the punishment for killing a Chimera?"
They think of Peter. How could you ever punish Peter Parker? He punished himself enough on a daily basis. Wrong shirt. Bad hair day. Palms too sweaty. Walk too fast. Talked too loud. Could've done better. Should've been better. Peter was a walking judge, jury, and executioner for himself.
Stiles huffed. "You spend five hours in the car with Theo Raeken." They both see Peter hang up the phone, and he looks disappointed. "I know what my punishment is... for all this. I'm gonna lose the love of my god damn life. I'm gonna lose Peter."
And it's like dropping a hammer on a sheet of glass. Gut wrenching, to admit that aloud. Stiles was losing Peter, thread by thread, and he couldn't sew it back together fast enough. Every step Stiles took forward, Peter took seven backward. Everything Stiles was afraid of for senior year— it was happening at 100 miles per hour.
The Jeep door peeled open, Peter hopping inside. "I'm back." He breathed out. "Stiles, if uh... if she texts you, tell her I'm staying over. It was the only way she'd hang up."
"You lied to your aunt?"
He shrugged. He'd lied before, Spider-man and all. What was one more? He was technically with Stiles— so it wasn't too bad. "That or she comes to pick me up at the clinic where there a dead body and good chance someone dangerous is coming to take it. You wanna just send her an invite?"
Stiles pulls his lips into a tight line and nods. "Got it. No problem. Got plenty of pictures for proof if she asks." A accidentally harsh reminder of all the candid photos of Peter in Stiles' phone. Studying, sleeping, dancing— anything you wanted. Basically the only source of Stiles' sanity these days.
"She won't."
"She might."
Six hours of unbearable small talk, awful conversations, and more silence, Peter was planning on smashing his head onto concrete just to spice up the night. With the cell phone jammers Scott had the school, there wasn't even a way to keep in contact with the other half of the pack that was also risking their lives.
They're all getting antsy.
Theo suddenly lifted his tired head. "If Scott really gives up on Peter for some piece of crap like Donovan, then he wouldn't be a True Alpha, would he??"
And instead of trying to avoid the topic like he's had a tendency to do recently, Peter takes it head on. "Or maybe that's the definition of one— someone who doesn't put up with murder."
Theo shrugs. "It sounds like you need to look up 'justifiable homicide'."
Narrowing his eyes harshly, Stiles cranes his head to Theo with a incredulous look. "Did you seriously just say that to the son of a cop? You think I haven't done that?"
"A Werewolf's eyes are supposed to change color when you take an innocent life." Theo blinked once, hazel turning into a bright illuminating gold, werewolf beta gold. "Do these look blue to you? It was self-defense— for me and for you." He looks to Peter briefly, knowing the teen won't make eye contact.
Peter shakes his head. "I'm not a wolf."
"Or maybe he just don't feel all that bad about it." Stiles offers an accusation. "You can't say one life is objectively less innocent than another one. What if they turn blue 'cause you feel guilty?"
Theo perks a brow. "So it's up to interpretation?"
"Yeah, maybe."
He nods, shrugging liek they were objectively talking about the murder of two innocent kids. "Okay. Then here's my interpretation of what happened with you and Donovan— not guilty. Did you feel bad about it?" Both boys look at him. "Not now— I mean right then. Right when it happened. What were you thinking the moment you knew he was dead and there was no saving him?"
And Peter faces the front again, and he feels like he's seeing Donovan all over again. "Like I wished it was me instead."
And Stiles can't even begin to comfort Peter, expect for an unconscious hand going to rest on Peter's thigh. He barely realizes he's done it, but thankfully Peter doesn't reject it either. Until Stiles sees the hair on Peter's arms raise, like he's in a haunted house. "Peter? What is it?"
Theo catches on. "A scent... Like smoke. Like something burning."
No one can react fast enough, not fast enough to see the two simmered hands smashing through the passenger window of the Jeep. Smoking leaks in, both hands grasping Peter's neck and gripping as tightly as possible. Tearing him out of Jeep through the window, it hurls Peter clear across the parking lot. Smashing into a light post and the curb— Peter groans.
He doesn't let his eyes close, hearing Stiles and Peter screaming for him inside the Jeep. Creaks and the groaning of metal echo as whatever thing it was— lifted the Jeep from the back. He cries out in pain as he stands, a searing burn radiating from his neck as he knows the skin there is charred.
He'll heal.
Sneakers skid on the gravel, sprinting as fast as he can towards the Jeep as it tips forward. He doesn't have time to fight the attacker, not with Stiles in the Jeep. Webs fly from his wrist, his aim is rusty from days of not using them, sticking Stiles snuggly into the driver seat. Blood spatters cover Stiles' face, and Peter doesn't know why yet— but there isn't time for that either.
Peter ignores Stiles shouts, he ignores the clinic door swinging open— he doesn't care. He's failed over and over and he won't let his mistake get Stiles hurt. That's the last straw— Stiles can't get hurt. Not again.
He drops to his knees, the gravel tearing through his jeans and marring the skin of his knees to a bloody mess. The Jeep tips towards him with gravity, balancing on the fender and the headlights cracking— it leans towards Peter. As it falls, Peter's palms grasp the corner of the roof, now trapped between it and the hard ground. He shouts in a strangled gasp, four thousand pounds now pushing down on him.
Stiles' arms are stuck in webbing, he can't get out. There's flames anyway, he'd fall, he'd get hurt— but he's hurting Peter. He's extra weight, and all he can do is watch. All he can do is watch as flames grow like weeds along the parking lot. Fire leads over, nearing Peter's shoes. "Peter! Peter, drop it! Move!" He screams, straining his neck and feeling the veins pop. "Let go!"
Peter's feet shake and shift as he gets to his feet. He's trying to maneuver it so he can just set it down, let it down easy. Bending lower, closer to the ground, he feels his spine ache. "Come on, Peter. Come on. Just— let it— okay..." he grunts to himself, fingers screaming and blood trialing down into his jeans.
His pant legs catches aflame.
"Ahh!" He grits his teeth, calf searing as he tries to shake it off like a bug. "Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot!" He whines, feeling the best crawl up his leg.
Stiles uses his keys to cut the webbing. He has to help. He grunts as he sliced the last web, falling onto the steering wheel and feeling it jab into his stomach. The shift weighs on Peter, his knees wobble— eyesight blocked by the roof of the Jeep to see what the hell Stiles could possibly be doing. "Stop! Stop moving!" He groans, trying to fix his grip.
But it seems Theo can't hear him, trying to climb to the front.
"No! Stop!"
The Jeep creaks.
"No! I can't— I can't do this!" Peter screams.
Stiles and Theo don't need Peter. They need Scott, they need Malia, they need someone good. They need someone who can help them, someone who doesn't make mistakes.
And his legs give out just as his hope does— Stiles crumples to the gravel parking lot and head smacking onto the door support of his car and lolling to the side. The roof crushes Peter underneath, lungs crying for air and all they get is short and stiff intakes of smoke.
"Stiles..." Peter croaks, before his mind fogs and his eyes get heavy. Too much smoke, not enough air, the Jeep is crushing him. He's tired, he's seen two people die in less than a week, he had to sleep alone, he totally bombed a math quiz. Life is too much sometimes, he gets anxious— but this, he can't physically handle it.
So he sleeps. He sleeps, and he thinks of Stiles.
AUTHOR SPEAKS !
— what's up fam
idk where the motive
to write this
but here's this
enjoy
stop asian hate
black lives still matter
spread love
— spidermandes