Key for this chapter:
Stiles' Thoughts
Anyone Else's Thoughts or Stiles' diary Entries
'Old dialogues memories, spoken out loud thoughts, the past in general...'
///Memories in Stiles' diary entries//
POVs
""Not an Actual Speech or Thought""
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Warning: Alternative POVs
Saturday 18th, October, 2015
12:00 PM
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Stiles hated Beacon Hills.
And yet for once Beacon Hills, actually no scratch that, he hated Beacon Hills, groaning pitifully at the god awful noise slowly torturing him.
"What in the name of the gods?" he groaned painfully.
"That would be the hangover", an amused voice offered.
"Ugh", he whined, "I'd say just kill me", he huffed trying to crawl under the person speaking, much to their amusement, "But I've been gifted a new lease on life, and I think my magic would take offense", he moaned weakly, "Make it stop", he pleaded, "Who is awake at this ungodly hour?" he demanded, there was so much noise outside the bedroom window.
"It's noon", Peter huffed curling around the lump currently crawling under him, turning them both around, just as Stiles jack-knifed up and promptly whimpered;
"Fuck!" he hissed placing his forehead into his hands, "Ow that hurt", he moaned pitifully all over again.
"Was that necessary?" Peter asked placing a hand on his nape, and pulling the pain from his body.
"My phone, I need my phone!" he hissed a tad frantic, "Also thank you, that feels awesome", he fisted the air weakly.
"Sure, and you're welcome", he said and offered him the phone on his side of the nightstand.
"Thanks", he said and sagged back into Peter's warmth.
Switching the phone on, he whined pitifully at the thirty-six missed calls from Cora Hale. One from his dad and two from Scott, those last two were baffling, but he'd worry about them later, priorities first.
Choosing his dad first he hummed as he waited for the call to connect;
'Stiles', his dad answered easily.
"Hey dad how's the conference?" he asked casually wincing at the noise his father let out, a deep-seated groaning, "Uh dad?" he asked baffled.
'It's Rafael', he said the name like particularly foul creature had stepped into the room, a sense Stiles understood easily, 'He's managed to speak up as a de-facto leader for the opposing counsel, he wants to bring the archaic hunter system back online', he sighed heavily.
"That's barbaric, dad you have to stop him!" he hissed through the pain.
'Believe me kid, we're trying. Parrish is in the command center searching for information to any ties with the Gerard, I called Chris too and he's on it. He'll call you soon, so stay awake', he ordered sharply.
"Why me?" he asked.
His dad hummed, 'He said you sent him a photo of a number-plate, I assume you didn't go home and are with someone, so just give him a call before he rains down hell, he told me, he'll give you time till one in the afternoon', he informed him, at Stiles acknowledgment he continued; 'Does this mean you're officially in the neutral territory?' he asked, 'Because the little McCall called and he's being quite annoying about your early graduation and of your so call abandonment of his pack', he snorted even as he said it. 'Do you know he actually tried tattling on you?' he asked amused.
"Lydia's playing mind-games", he answered curling into Peter's curiosity.
'The red-head?' John asked amused. 'Why is she failing at mind games?' he asked amused.
"Because she's been living under the misunderstanding that she's the smartest thing out there, the bitch may have an IQ of 173, but she lacks basic sense", he answered stretching languidly.
'Does she know you have an eidetic memory and a higher IQ?' his dad asked confused.
"Now daddio, if she knew that she wouldn't make such careless mistakes would she? If she thinks she can run me out of the pack and change her position into pack right-hand, she's as stupid as they come", he huffed rolling his eyes despite the hangover.
'Especially since you weren't the right hand in the first place, you never actively claimed a place in the pack. To people with any common sense, they would have noticed you were simply a neutral overseer, making sure Scott didn't make any stupid mistakes', he muttered, 'Which of course just ended tragically with everyone including Deaton thinking you were making up a post that went against the natural order', he muttered dryly.
"I didn't say they were an intelligent bunch. And Deaton's jealous of anyone more powerful than he is, he makes up excuses about balance and natural order, when in reality he does everything by manipulating people and creating a huge stink out of nothing, just so he remains the Chief Druid of Beacon Hills, and people he can't redirect to another place, he sends them to Eichen", he grumbled irritated all over again.
Lucky for us there are people who don't take his crap and haven't awarded him the title 'High Druid'...
'Stiles that's a dangerous accusation', his dad warned.
"Just because I don't have the proof doesn't mean I'm stupid enough to just walk up to him and accuse him", Stiles huffed rolling his eyes.
'I'm just saying be careful. The person you're with, are they supernatural?' he asked warily.
"I had a one night stand, kind of the reason I sent Chris a number plate", he reminded him.
'Right. Just don't say stuff like that in public. And call Chris, take care kiddo, I think Jordan found something I'm taking this asshole down! Love ya kid' he cried out vindictively and ended it with a softly.
Stiles snorted, "Love you dad... go be a cowboy!" he cheered.
As soon as the call disconnected he heaved a sigh, "I wanna go back to sleep", he whined even as he blindly dialed Chris' number.
'Stiles...'
"Chris...." He whined, "Don't start yelling", he pleaded.
'I wasn't planning on it', the man's terse voice greeted him dryly.
"Sure you weren't", he huffed groaning.
'Do you know there's photographic evidence of you ordering drinks at McIntosh?' he asked quietly.
"Lydia's attempt at blackmail I guess", he answered yawning.
Peter kissed his forehead and hummed, and "I'll get us some coffee", he murmured kissing him one more time on his lips softly.
Humming pleasantly he nodded, "Coffee sure..." he agreed happily.
'Focus brat!'
And that was better than any cold shower, "You have awful bedside manner Argent!" he whined.
'Good thing I'm not in your bed then. I think your companion might find offense to that', he snarked, 'Anyway, are you safe, in any duress?' he asked.
"If I was, how on earth would you be able to help in the next millisecond?" he asked baffled. "Anyway I'm fine, erase the photo. I'm guessing by your tone, you haven't yet researched the owner of the car?" he asked quietly.
'I have, though I doubt the person you're with is a sixty-year-old named Muriel Anjelica?' he drawled dryly.
"Hm, she sounds sexy", he drawled mockingly.
'She is, and has a mouth on her that would make a sixteenth-century pirate blush!' he huffed dryly, 'She gave the car to the young man I assume you slept with. Anyway of the ten new entries that have waltzed into Beacon Hills, I'll figure out who he is soon enough', he muttered, 'Don't you have Homeroom today?' he asked then changing the subject.
I'm sure he'll await your arrival with bated breath!
"Later today, it's Saturday", he answered quietly, and then because Chris deserved it, "I'm fine Chris, thanks for being worried about me. Anyway onto more important matters", he said crawling out from under Peter's duvet, he made his way blindly to whatever lay beyond the room's threshold. Last night he was too drunk to map out the place, now he was too hung-over to try, "Did you get the data from Lydia, or is she still holding on to evidence of my drinking?" he asked.
'If I answer she still has it, what are you going to do?' he asked warily.
"Most of Beacon Hills will come to the swift realization why making an enemy out of me is a terrible, terrible thing to do", he promised vindictively.
'I'll take your word for it. The fact that even Deaton doesn't know you single-handedly destroyed Kate's life and killed her in Eichen and sent her ashes to all seven quadrants of the planet is enough evidence to not cross you', he muttered, 'Don't worry the line is secured', he added as an afterthought, 'I have some of the data, Allison handed it over after a stern lecture, that doesn't mean Lydia doesn't have her own backups', he answered finally. 'Just don't go overboard', he pleaded, 'I don't want to clean up after you', he grumbled.
"Don't worry, it'll be messy, but the only one who will be cleaning up after her will be the false-queen herself, a queen who's about to be knocked off of her pedestal. It'll be fun", he promised.
'I'll enjoy it then. Goodbye, Oh and call Cora Hale, there's only so many times I can waylay your existence, with 'He's out on errand', before she storms the place. She is one persistent werewolf!' he grumbled pitifully.
Stiles snorted, "You're telling me", he huffed finally finding Peter as he climbed down a metal spiral staircase, "She left me 36 calls. And about ten voice-mails, I'll listen to later", he muttered semi-amused.
'You do that', he huffed, and 'Stay safe brat!' he wished and then hung up.
Stiles reached the end of the staircase and walked towards Peter, "Hey sorry about that", he said wrapping his arms around Peter's back and peering over his shoulder, feeling obnoxiously tactile for odd reasons, "What's cooking, good-looking?" he sang cheerfully.
Peter snorted amused and lifted a spoon, "Old family recipe for hangovers", he said and let him lick the spoon. "You've had a busy noon so far?" he asked curiously.
"Tastes like chocolate", he hummed pleasantly.
"It's a chocolate-blueberry treat", he answered, "I was melting the chocolate over some water", and he answered showing him the double boiler, and hummed, "And so what is up with this Lydia Martin character?" he asked genuinely curious.
"Lydia?" he asked curiously, "Oh before Lydia, I'm going to have to call Cora", he muttered kissing Peter on the cheek, "I'm just gonna be over there, she's going to yell, best not do that near sensitive hearing", he muttered half to himself, "Worse I'd like to keep the phone so far away from myself, it's practically a ticking time-bomb", he grimaced dryly, dialing the redial button, from his call list, he braced for impact!
'FUCKING FINALLY STILINSKI!!!!!'
"Cora", he greeted wincing from the sound, he was sure his ears were ringing, "Practicing your vocal exercises, I hear", he snarked shuddering as he collapsed on the couch after he placed the phone on the windowsill, of the truly impressive floor to ceiling glass shield between the interior and exterior world of Peter's loft and Beacon Hills' warehouse district respectively—neutrally located for people moving into Beacon Hills.
'Don't', the girl hissed through gritted teeth, 'Where, the fuck, are you?' she demanded.
"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you", he answered amused.
'Don't kid with me right now', she hissed terse.
"What crawled up your ass and died, why the rage little Hale?" he asked confused.
'You may have graduated five days ago, but it seems like the McCall posse only just found out on Friday. Not exactly an observant bunch, and one of them is part-hunter', she scoffed at their incompetence, 'Kate would just die if she knew how bad Allison is as a hunter, no wonder Chris keeps her out of Hunter meetings, anyway, they found out on Friday, which is why I have been trying to call you', she hissed pausing to catch her breath.
Stiles nodded, "Sorry, I had my phone on silent last night. What's up buttercup?" he asked warily.
'If anything I'm more of a Bubbles, Blossom', she snarked no doubt rolling her eyes, 'Lydia's been on a rampage, I overheard her arguing with the ethics department on re-instating you in the high school and how it was unethical to allow for early-graduation without giving the appropriate exams. And she went on for quite some time, up until the principal finally yelled at her loud enough to wake the dead and let every single shifter in the school hear about how you planned to graduate early in the middle of Junior year and you already took all the exams including the exit examinations', she informed him unnecessarily.
"And?" he asked wondering when she'd get to the point.
'Of course Martin didn't take it well, she then started ranting at McCall about how as the left-hand of the pack you were supposed to inform him about your plans—does she not know you never declared yourself actively a member of the pack? I mean you sided with Scott a lot, even when mom was training him, and afterward when Allison moved to BH, but it's not even on record here in the council record: Hunter and or Druidic about your specific position in the pack, which obviously means you never had a position as a beta, omega, right-hand or left-hand, and emissary', she muttered and then continued not really waiting for a reply, 'After a major argument dominated by her, entirely', she sighed, 'She said it was imperative to teach you a lesson, that boycotting a pack went against the rules. By the way that is not true, you can always leave a pack', she informed him, 'No one is bound by covenant laws. We're not vampires. We're part human; no one can force us to stay. If I wanted to I could leave my pack after a long discussion with my mother and alpha', she informed him, 'Though this is neither here or there. My point is you can leave, so whatever delusions the McCall pack has of the workings of a pack, isn't dependant on being bound to an alpha. Anyway their plan was to slip a drug into your drink and do something to you, so please tell me you're not making your way home, after waking up in a ditch this morning, because I called, and called, do you know how worried I've been?! I even called an Argent—Chris Argent, for crying out loud!!! And if you hadn't answered I would have called your dad, Stiles!!!' she ended up screeching.
"I'm fine", he sighed heavily, "I went to bar, not the club with the guys", he said deciding to ignore telling her the situation of actually being ditched at a bar and there being photographic evidence of him getting raging drunk, no doubt there'd be photos of Peter too, he'd have to make sure Peter knew, and didn't end up in a turf war between him and Martin. "And then I hooked up with a friend", he lied, "I'm at his place now, so that's why I wasn't picking up the phone, sorry about worrying you", he promised warily.
'Oh', she exhaled roughly, 'That's great', she said sounding relieved, 'Then you'll be coming to Homeroom?' she asked warily.
"Duh", he huffed, "There's literally no way on earth I'm incurring Maya's wrath", he promised already warily.
Cora laughed, 'She did say the weekends were going to kick our butts', she agreed.
"Yup", he huffed, "With that warning, there's definitely no way I'm playing hooky, wild horses couldn't keep me away", he stated almost desperately.
Cora laughed again, sounding relieved and he smiled softly.
"Hey Cor", he hummed.
'Yeah?' she asked curiously.
"Don't go accidentally creating strife between your pack and McCalls okay?" he said, "Thank you for worrying about me and getting angry on my behalf—"
'It's because you're my partner, my parabatai, my Aibo, my partner-in-crime—'
"If you start calling me your mate, I'm going to run away screaming? Even if I have to take on Maya's wrath", he interrupted her, unaware of Peter's lips unconsciously pulling back in a snarl he wasn't even aware he was doing at the word 'mate'.
'Geh... gross, don't even joke about that', she gagged at the mere thought.
Somewhat offended he sighed, "My point is the problem with Lydia, is mine, and my issues with McCall are my problem. I'm grateful for your worry, but the Hale Pack and McCall already divided the territory in half, I'd hate for Beacon Hills, to go through hell all over again just because you decided to act on a misguided one-woman vendetta on my behalf, that won't even be recorded like that, but as an act of war!" he warned her sharply.
'I understand', she sighed heavily, 'I just, it's not fair Stiles. Mom didn't want to divide the town in half, she had to sacrifice precious memories because of Scott and it was Deaton's suggestion—'
Well now, that's news... why didn't I know this?
'—my alpha and our pack-left hand tried arguing the case, but that man has a way with words. Which is ironic since he uses them less than Derek does', she muttered, 'And now Lydia is cooking up these plans. What do they want?' she demanded suddenly pissed.
"Calm down Cora, nothing bad is going to happen—"
'You're neutral Stiles, you can't make promises like that, and you're human to boot...'
"Cora!" he scolded sharply, "You of all people shouldn't underestimate humans. Now I repeat nothing bad is going to happen. Just calm down, take a nap, Maya's going to torture us aplenty, it's best if you concentrate with our main problems. Leave Lydia Martin to me, I can handle a stupid teenage girl with a god complex. Okay?" he stated reassuringly.
Cora hummed, 'Okay. I'll see you at Ares', she said, 'Bye Stiles', she said and promptly hung up.
Stiles ignored the empty dial tone, and closed his eyes slumping back on the couch.
"I don't even know who this girl is, and I already want to rip her throat out", Peter huffed pressing a cold thing to his forehead.
Stiles opened his eyes and blinked at the glass, "Is that orange juice?" he asked practically salivating at the thought.
Peter chuckled, and "You'll have to sit up to actually drink it", he teased cheekily.
Stiles sighed, "I don't want to move. I have until four in the evening to enjoy this time, can't we just go back to sleep in that big ass cloud in your room?" he asked curiously.
Peter chuckled, "Maybe after some food", he hummed teasingly.
Stiles sat up and took the glass from Peter he drained the glass and hummed from deep inside. "Do you need any help cooking up something greasy?" he asked feeling slightly more awake.
Peter hummed, "Bacon and Eggs?" he asked.
"Yup", he agreed, "I'll make the eggs, you wanna toast some bread and get the bacon?" he asked stretching easily.
Peter hummed, "Or I can stay here and enjoy the view", he leered at him.
Stiles blinked and looked down, only to shriek in shock and dive for the couch cushions, "Oh my God!" he grabbed the two biggest cushions and covered his legs and torso, "Why didn't you tell me, I was dressed in just my boxers!" he demanded red all over and feeling the flush spread rapidly.
Peter stared at him in bemusement and promptly burst out laughing, "What are you doing?" he asked charmed despite himself, "You know I was curled around you in bed, you were wearing boxers then", he reminded him through tears of laughter.
"Yes", he agreed, "And covered with a duvet!" he protested, "I can't believe I've been walking all willy-nilly dressed in just my skivvies", he face-palmed and shook his head.
Utterly charmed at the teen, Peter got up and walked to a hallway closet, he found his old after-moon clothes and grabbed one of his v-necks and walked back to the teen emulating a virginal maiden from the thirteenth century. "Here, these don't fit me anymore, they should be long enough to cover all this nubile flesh", he trailed a path with his fingers between the gaps the cushions hadn't covered, causing the teen to break out in goosebumps and shiver dramatically. Snickering Peter kissed his forehead and retreated to the kitchen, still tickled pink at the odd behavior.
I really do like this kid...
Stiles blinked owlishly as Peter walked off and grabbed a white t-shirt and then returned teasing him and leaving him with clothes and kiss.
Exactly who was this guy? Scratch that, I'm going to marry this guy...I should tell dad... maybe Chris too... Cora can be the flower girl...
Shaking his head Stiles pulled the cloth towards him, "How do you take your eggs?" he asked pulling on the t-shirt, inhaling the scent of washing powder and something that carried the same scent of rain.
Peter hummed, "The traditional way, sunny-side up. And you, bacon extra crispy?" he asked as he took three slices of bacon and placed them in a skillet, "Do we cook the eggs in the bacon grease?" he asked, "Or do you prefer butter?" he asked interested.
"I usually cook them in olive oil, because I take care of my dad's health, but butter or bacon grease, can also work, whatever you want", he stated simply.
"You have strangely health eating habits, you should meet my favorite person in the world, his eating habits, make me worry. If it weren't for a fact that only wolfsbane is bad for us, I'd worry about his arteries getting clogged ", Peter shuddered dramatically.
"I'm sure you're just being overprotective", he teased.
Peter hummed eyes straying to where his Henley just about covered the teen's ass, and he internally whined;
That was terrible decision-making skills, where's a duvet when you need it?
Wincing as the heat of bacon grease popping out of the pan and landing on his palm, jolted him out of the erotic reverie of the beautiful man in front of him, absentmindedly picking up his eggs.
"Not really", he answered eventually forcing his eyes down to the bacon merrily cooking away, mocking him for his perverted thoughts, "The last time I met him in New York when he was still living there, he was living on frozen goods. Frozen pizzas, frozen burgers, frozen steak-meals..."
"Oh good God! Stop! What the hell? Does the dude have a death wish? The next time if you meet him, send him my way, and I'll make him a healthy indulgent meal, he'll steer clear of unnecessary temptation", he muttered amused.
"Shouldn't I get boyfriend cooking privileges first?" he mock-whined petulantly.
Stiles snorted, "I am cooking for you naughty-wolf", he teased as he cracked three eggs in a bowl and smirked at him.
Peter pouted; "That is not cooking. I want to be wined and dined", he huffed haughtily, nose in the air.
Stiles snorted, "Well aren't you a pretentious snob. How about for our next date, I treat you to the best curly fries this side of the planet?" he offered instead, adding another egg into the bowl. "And you bring the wine?" he hummed quietly.
Peter grinned, "Sure, when would you like that?" he asked softly.
"What days are you free?" Stiles asked as Peter deposited the bacon slices on a paper-towel covered plate, he switched easily with him, in what felt almost as if he'd practiced the routine and poured the four eggs into the skillet, he reached for some salt, black pepper and a dash of paprika and sprinkled them over the eggs, letting the whites cook perfectly, he tilted the pan, and reached for some butter, adding it in, and he basted the eggs with some melted butter, cooking the eggs perfectly.
"You're basting them?" Peter asked as he toasted some bread.
Startled Stiles looked down and winced, "Oh shoot, I was doing it automatically, I can make a fresh ba—"
"No", Peter hurriedly assured, "No it's okay", he pitched his voice lower, and "I've just never met anyone else who likes it like that, it's like you were made for me"; he muttered half to himself.
Stiles flushed and look back down at the eggs, shutting the heat off he shrugged, "It helps enhance the flavor of an egg. Like I said I usually have olive oil, so I make this olive-oil based herb butter, by adding, basil, two garlic cloves, finely grated, a little lemon zest, to even out the flavor, one shallot and a bunch of parsley all chopped, after it's combined in the oil, I freeze it, and use those in batches. I disguised it and told my dad its herb butter, low cholesterol. He has no idea its olive-oil. That man will hunt down his own burger and live off of them if he could. So I improvise, a lot", he muttered, "You already had herb butter and so I used it, and then started cooking it automatically, like I was trying to do for my dad", he laughed a bit amused.
Transferring the eggs delicately to a plate, he turned and found Peter handing him a butter knife, thanking him, he cut the eggs in half and deposited two sunny side eggs to Peter's plate, and accepted three slices of bacon and two pieces of buttered toast. He moved to the fridge and hummed, "Coffee, black or milk?" he asked reaching for the milk.
"I'll take it black", Peter answered.
Stiles nodded and turned, he found Peter's French press and the coffee grains right next to it, adding two spoonfuls, he hummed and then poured in the water that had already been boiling in a kettle on the stove, he took it placed it on the table Peter was setting, right up against the windows, he hummed as he nodded at the coffee cups and Stiles' juice sat on the table, between their plates.
"Anything else?" he asked amused.
Peter shook his head and hummed, "What time is your training?" he asked as he cut into his eggs, eggs he'd laid over his toast, letting the bread soak up the yolk.
Stiles hummed, and "I get my ass kicked around like a used football at four", he answered already dreading it, as he picked up his toast and with a corner poked the yellow eggs, turning it into a dipping sauce fountain.
Peter snorted, and "I'm sure your instructors are not that bad", he teased amused as he placed a single cube of sugar in his coffee.
Stiles scoffed, "You obviously haven't met Maya Black, she may be as cute as a button, but she's a demon, a demon I tell you!!" he hissed dramatically, as he made a bacon and egg sandwich.
Peter hummed, "Hunter Black? Short girl, say five-five, with dark black hair, one blue eye, one brown?" he asked, "Chooses the stupidest aliases on the planet, like flower or floralie, and has a sense about her that screams, she lacks responsibility about things unless it's about training and hunting?" he asked inquisitively.
Stiles blinked at him owlishly, "I stand corrected, you do know her", he hummed impressed.
"More like 'of her'", he answered, "I've never actually met her, but she has a very vivid personality and I've heard stories. She's extremely ruthless when it comes to slaying demons", he hummed, "Of the Black clan hunters, Maya Black wasn't born into the clan, she was adopted into the clan when her family was possessed by demons and slaughtered an entire village, the possession had been removed, but the guilt and the horror had twisted something in her family", he informed him, "She was a five-year-old who'd been protected by Hugo Black, her father's best friend, and the Black Clan's current patriarch. The man had constructed a shield and because he was holding her at the time, he could only save her", he took a sip of his coffee.
"What happened to her?" he asked quietly.
"She was immediately taken to a druidic camp, where a High Priestess of Arcana, tattooed an anti-possession ward and rune onto her back, the only safe space on a toddler. It saved her life and her soul, but it also left her the most innocent of her family, so she was removed from her family. Hugo Black kept her hidden, and news travels in rumors", he said taking a sip of his coffee, "The mother went insane first, she let the demons in, she killed several children in hopes of resurrecting her child. An eye from one, a hand from another, she stitched a corpse in an image of her daughter's memory", he swallowed heavily.
Stiles grimaced, and "I can see how badly that would go", he hissed, the truth shining through;
You can't bring back the dead...
"Her family terrorized her village for ten years. She'd hear snippets from other hunters that had been sent to dispatch the demon-possessed family and either news returned of their demise or injured soldiers came back. When she was fifteen she followed or technically snuck into a car and walked into the village where her family, had now become demonic worshipers. They transitioned into monsters, after a few successful exorcisms, the guilt had been so profound, her father killed himself, her brother raped an innocent and killed her, and then himself. Her mother and her sister just became a cult and worshipped evil demons, creating a nest of debauchery and sin", he retold Stiles.
Stiles winced, "She killed her mother", he concluded correctly.
Peter nodded, "With a holy bullet, between the eyes, looked her dead in the eyes and shot her point-blank. 'Forgiveness needs to be earned, my mother is dead, and all I see is a monster!' is what she'd said, more or less..." he hummed licking his lips. "After that, she cut her up, buried her ashes in four cardinal directions of her village and then razed the entire land to the ground. Her village became the stories you tell children in the dark. A legendary hunter from one perspective, a legendary evil abolished from another. The bottom line, Evil is always vanquished", he hummed, "So brush your teeth kiddos, or you'll be declared bad and the ones called Black will come, and hunt you down", he imitated a crotchety old woman's voice.
"And I thought Chris had it rough with a father like Gerard Argent around", Stiles muttered as he took a sip of his sugarless French-pressed coffee.
Peter hummed, "I don't understand how you're friends, did his daughter play a part in you two being friends? Or is the part where she's part of the McCall pack, greatly exaggerated?" he wondered idly.
Stiles snorted, "Allison and I are so not friends, I kind of hate her, and she thinks I'm some kind of a brat, that needs to grow up", he answered, "Nah, Chris and I. we became friends, when we ended up having to babysit McCall every full moon and he'd escape my clutches to climb the Argent's house and sit outside Allison's bedroom window, staring adoringly at her. The many times I had to talk Chris down from shooting Scott are aplenty", he sighed heavily.
"Wow, the two of you are relationship goals", Peter drawled dryly.
Stiles snorted, "We should be, after Victoria killed herself, both, Scott and Allison, 'Ran away from home'", he air quoted rolling his eyes, "As in they packed up their shit and decided they were going to run away and live on their own. I think they expected that Chris would come and bring them home or that I would rescue them from their truly stupid decision-making skills, but I just snapped. I lost my mother when I was eight years old. I had to grow up very quickly after that, for these two children, to not even think about their parents and deciding running away was the solution and just abandoning their brand new packmates, because life had become just a tad too hard to deal with. Fuck 'em!!!" he growled still pissed despite two years have gone by.
Peter eyed him and nodded, "What did you do?" he asked quietly.
"I invited the pack to my house, brought Chris with me and we had a pack-night, where I made sure Chris knew I was there for him, and he didn't have to be burdened by the grief and guilt of Victoria's decision to kill herself. The new packmates could feel the bond to the alpha weakening, so I told them to anchor themselves to me, until they returned, to focus all their rage, their anger, their guilt, their pain, loneliness, and focus on me", he shrugged.
Peter stared at him, "You have a death wish, then again I already knew that", he muttered pinching the bridge of his nose.
"It wasn't like I wasn't prepared, I left Chris in a mountain ash circle, with noise-canceling headphones, on my bed, and let him sleep off the whiskey induced coma he is was trying to create", he muttered still feeling a little raw from the memory. "And then I walked the wolves to my yard and sat in a circle of mountain ash, taunting them from within, and throwing lacrosse balls at them. It was effective, by the end of the night, they all more or less came through it with a new lease on life, they figured out who they were, what their demons were, why they were struggling on finding out their anchors.
"See for Scott his anchor is stupid-levels of immature. He fell in love with a girl and turned her into his anchor. And she unconsciously did the same, those two are so co-dependent on each other, they tried to teach the baby werewolves the same. But it's not like all people are the same. We have different ways of thinking, and that means every full moon with no guide, those young wolves were ticking time-bombs, put in a werewolf's body, and expecting them to make their significant others anchors, that' just asking for stalker behavior and restraining orders to emerge. A concept a bitten werewolf wouldn't get, because bonds tie a pack together. Well unless you choose to be an omega. But those kinds of people are rare, you'd need to have a lot of control, not to mention self-control", he muttered as he finished his breakfast and drank what was left of his coffee.
"The new wolves, are they okay with you no longer being a part of the pack?" Peter asked worriedly.
"Hm..." Stiles paused, "Ivory calls a lot, mostly about a new guy I don't really trust. He seems to have bonded with him, but I'm keeping an eye on him, Theo's his name, Ivory can't shut up about him. The amount of voice-mails I get about that asshole, I have half a mind, to wrap Ivory in a blanket and cart him to a tower guarded by a dragon", he muttered slightly peeved.
Peter snickered at the 'Mama-wolf' tendencies he gave off.
"And Edgar and his twin Malia seem to be working on their own issues, Malia's new anchor is herself, and a backup anchor is my dad, because authority figures like the sheriff, apparently work in place of an alpha", he shrugged, "Edgar's working hard at making sure she passes her SAT's and keeping Malia in line, whilst he works as an intern for the sheriff's department", he muttered rolling his eyes.
"Is Lydia a new pack member as well?" Peter asked quietly, taking their plates, and forcing Stiles back down and shaking his head stopping him from helping.
"One would think, but no Lydia has been there from the get-go, she's the one who encouraged Scott and Allison to make a run for it, they all decided they were going to live at Lydia's lake-house, and have Lydia foot the bill. After a discreet tip to both her parents anonymously, of course, her parents cut off the credits to the credit-cards she had. And Mr. Whittemore finally pulled Jackson out of school and took him to London. He came back for our final year and all that he seemingly is a member of the pack, and is seen around Lydia. Now that I think about it, Jackson doesn't seem to relate all that much with the pack", he muttered half to himself. "Half of me wonders what happened to him, the other half doesn't really care", he sighed as he soaked in the rays of the sun.
Peter hummed as he checked the oven, "So even though this Lydia character has been around for so long, she still manages to not understand how a pack is run?" he asked utterly baffled.
"I know right", Stiles sighed heavenly, "Also I am now a cat, or definitely a lizard, I am never leaving this spot. I have now made this place my permanent residence, I'll give you the paperwork later", he stated and closed his eyes humming deeply.
Peter chuckled amused shaking his head he watched the teen practically fall asleep, on top of the table, "I'll charge you rent", he teased.
"Oooh?" Stiles asked, "How much is the rent?" he asked lazily.
Peter grinned, "A lifetime supply of Reece's pieces", he cheeked as he spooned his mixture into a bowl and then poured in boiling water into a baking tray.
"Well then", he stood up, "Where's my hoodie?" he asked stretching idly.
Peter hurriedly looked away, as his Henley rode up, "Why are you looking for it?" he asked as he pointed towards the hook by the door, "The rest of your clothes are in the wash, I don't imagine you can wear jeans to training, or will you go home to change?" he asked quietly.
"I'll have to go home", Stiles answered, "Not that I wouldn't prefer to stay here forever, in my sun-spot, with the hottest guy I managed to pick up, completely drunk off my ass", he added obligingly, winking at him, much to Peter's amusement, "But the kids are still at home", he said unaware of Peter's heart jumping into his throat;
Kids? What kids, you're a kid!!!?
"— and with dad at the conference, I still have to feed them", he answered, "And take them for a walk and make sure—"
"Wait", Peter stopped him, "You mean animals?" he asked baffled.
Stiles hummed, "Well yeah", he paused with his hands in rummaging inside his hoodie pockets, and looked up, "Dude you just thought of me as a teen dad, didn't you?" he asked amused.
"You're the one who said it", Peter answered.
Stiles snorted, "Dude, that's a cop-out", he teased and then walked towards him, reaching him in a few easy steps, he curled an arm around Peter's waist and hummed, "Today's rent", he stated kissing his nape gently.
Peter blinked down at the Reece's piece he'd placed beside the blueberry mixture he was stirring. Swallowing he stared at the orange and gold wrapper, his throat felt thick and like it suddenly was too hard to breathe.
"Peter?"
When he didn't move, Stiles turned the man to face him, "What's wrong? Babe, Peter, start talking you've gone so pale?" he asked worriedly.
Peter swallowed, "Sorry, I just, I'm a little overwhelmed", he answered honestly.
"That's an extreme reaction to candy", Stiles answered, "I'm sure you have your reasons, so I won't pry", he said and kissed him softly, "But you can talk to me if you want to?" he queried quietly.
"Aren't you curious?" Peter asked quietly.
"So curious, you have no idea", he answered honestly, "But I can also see, whatever happened to you, is serious and I don't want to be that guy, who loses a sense of basic decorum and just pries into your personal business, you don't want that, and I'm not that guy", he answered simply.
Peter hummed, and "It's nothing serious, there's no whimsical memories aligned with chocolate or this brand or something important like an anniversary or a declaration of love", he answered weakly.
"But it is important", Stiles whispered, "And that's okay. Peter it's okay", he promised softly.
"Why do you have a Reece's piece?" he asked turning back to his blueberry mixture.
Stiles laughed, "I'm like a dragon when it comes to things I like. Like how dragons hoard gold, or knowledge or well whatever a dragon hoards", he trailed off a little lost in thought.
"Yes?" Peter answered re-directing him.
"Right", Stiles blinked and nodded, focusing on Peter he hummed, "Well for me, curly fries, Reeces' pieces, my laptop, my lacrosse stick... not that I play all that much, I just like the game, I'm not overly competitive about it, and uh... my pillow, it's weird I actually slept here, I don't usually sleep without my pillow, I'm guessing being drunk and exhausted and having a sexy furnace beside me pulled me under, but without my pillow, I toss and turn and toss and turn, until I imitate a washing machine", he answered dryly, "And then there's my dad's shield, it was bent out of shape by a darach and I've kept it close like an anchor, and then there's my mother's ring", he pointed to his left index finger, "I didn't have to have it re-adjusted, it was always big, mom's dad's ring. She used to wear her wedding ring after it, so that it would make sure this one wouldn't fall off", he showed Peter the signet ring.
"Your dad didn't mind?" Peter asked curiously, "Human customs for wedding rings usually don't allow for other rings right?" he asked quietly.
Stiles shrugged, "In my family, this ring is the engagement ring. My father when asking for my grandparent's blessings to marry my mother, yup they were old fashioned like that", he said with a soft smile.
"A tradition I understand", Peter whispered kissing his forehead gently.
Stiles smiled eyes a little misty he continued;
"Dad tells the story differently. Mom was always so embarrassed, but dad used to say, '
Stiles, kid, I was terrified, you've met your granddad that man is huge, and so there I was head bowed on bended knee requesting permission to marry their daughter! Kiddo, Firing squads are less terrifying. They hemmed and hawed'. Mom—", he laughed then, "Mom says dad was exaggerating here, and Gramps accepted pretty easily, but dad insists;
Nonsense, someday kid you're either going to find yourself in this similar situation, whether it's for a girl or boy or someone else. It will be so scary kiddo, but we're Stilinski Men, and we stick to our guns – Speaking of kiddo, always carry an extra gun. And then there I waited, I had the ring of course, and I presented it, but your pops, he boomed, 'NO' and I was terrified, did he just say 'No?''
Mom always said, dad was exaggerating the volume, but I've met Pops, he really is loud, and dad goes,
'And so; too scared to face the fact that I may have to elope with your mother, and trying not to show that on my face...' This is the part where I'd always gasp, 'Dad, you were going to run away?'
I was so scared my dad was going to run away from being the hero, and then dad would look me in the eyes and go, 'Sorry Kiddo, sometimes there will always come a time in a young man's life, where running away is the more heroic thing to do. And if you are ever faced with such a situation; Run Kiddo, Run away'", he smiled then a soft understanding smile.
"And mom would be like, 'Just remember to take your partner with you'", he laughed, "' And then kiddo', dad would end the story, 'When all seemed lost pops, removes the ring on his finger and goes, 'You must wed her with this!'", he thrust the ring in the air.
"Mom used to say she would have loved re-sizing it, but dad was too scared of pops to even suggest it, 'And you shall be announced as one' Pops ended his dramatic speech after that mom usually just rolled her eyes as dad would stand in a victory pose proclaiming he won and faced down the dragon!" he snorted laughing amused, "Of course it probably wasn't as dramatic as all that—"
"Or it could have been much worse", Peter interjected.
"Or that", Stiles agreed grinning at the mere idea.
"So yeah, curly fries, Reece's pieces, my pillow, my laptop, my lacrosse stick, my dad's old badge, my mom's ring and for now that's all folks", he answered simply.
"Don't you like other chocolates?" Peter asked quietly.
Humming Stiles shrugged, "I like all kinds of junk food, Red Vines, Doritos, Cheetos, but when it comes to chocolates, I don't know... Peanut Butter-cups are the way to go, and for me, Reeces does them best. I'm not saying there aren't other types out there, but these I hoard, so you should consider yourself very lucky mister, that I'm even sharing these with you", he hummed, "I almost bit my dad's hand, the last time he reached for one, and I definitely scratched Cora's hand on Tuesday, still that vixen got away with one. Speaking of; she better pay me back", he muttered wandering away to pick up his phone and text said 'vixen'—who was a werewolf.
Peter shook his head, internally curious;
Who are you?
xX*Xx