Chapter Text
I get away with avoiding Peter for about a day, he doesn’t push, he lets me be by myself and then he sits next to me and puts his hand on my leg so I don’t invent an excuse and leave the office to escape him.
“Stiles, we need to talk. Both the Defence and Prosecution have politely asked for us to testify against Eric. They are aware of his obsession with me and have asked that I do my best to provoke a response from him. They want me to be visually alluring. They believe that if he’s innocent his interest in me will make him slip and not give anything away, while if he is guilty he’s going to make a mistake that they can use to prove his guilt.”
I’m being allowed out of the suite? And yes I’m aware of the rest of what Peter’s said but I need to get out for a while, there’s nothing like running away from where you had a big light bulb moment to push it out of your mind.
“Aren’t they werewolves?” I point out, “Can’t they just listen to him lie?”
“A very good point, but they’re taking this trial very seriously and want overwhelming evidence to bury him with,” Peter twitches next to me, “At the moment the jury is happy to convict him so we don’t have to do anything. He wrote some very detailed plans about what he wanted to do to you, he left me gifts, he was very clearly trying to come between a Mated pair, he’ll die for that.”
What?
“Um, Peter? What’s he on trial for?” Because right now I’m fairly convinced it’s because he’s a serial killer but I’m beginning to think perhaps it’s for something else.
“For threatening a Mated pair and their bond,” Peter says it so calmly, “We’re so rare that anything that could even potentially destroy us will be stopped before it can, it’s one of the first Lores. Eric has proved willing to keep trying to get my attention and make me leave you, that cannot be allowed, he’ll die for his crimes.”
Oh my god.
They’re seriously going to kill him for wanting to be Peter’s serial killer boyfriend, not for any of the other crimes he’s committed. That is a seriously messed up thing and I stare at Peter in shock.
“Stiles,” he sighs, “We really do need to work on your self-esteem, I’m aware that the idiots in Beacon Hills couldn’t see you for what you are, but with only the slightest chance to shine you’re already proving yourself.”
“How am I proving myself Peter?” And I really want to know, because so far I’ve not really done a lot, or anything.
“Fine,” He takes his hand off my leg and swivels in the seat to look straight at me, “First you were born a Spark, that Spark is active, it’s allowing you to mimic being a werewolf, enough that you’re capable of Mating. Mating is rare enough in Born or Bitten Werewolves that it should be impossible in humans, yet here you sit fully Mated to me.
“On top of that you have survived things that would destroy others, you’re still wounded, badly, but you’re alive, you’re a survivor” I swallow and wait for him to continue. “You impressed the ghouls and they’ve lived long enough that they aren’t easily impressed. You helped protect a terrible thing we won’t speak of, you also helped tidy up a whole town. Straight after Martin’s attack you defied everyone to find the truth and you nearly died because of it. So you are more than proving yourself Stiles.”
When he puts it like that, I do sound kind of awesome.
“Now do I have your permission to flaunt myself at Eric?” He asks it earnestly and his face is completely blank there are no tells to let me know which way he wants this to go.
“Stiles,” It’s my dream Derek, “Be careful, Peter’s heartbeat is elevated and he’s angry right now.” He doesn’t look it, but then Peter is good at hiding it.
A few more members of my pack call out warnings, I’ve learnt to be very careful when that happens. Taking my time I try and match up his past behaviour with our relationship, which only gives me one answer I can go with, “No, no I do not give you permission to flaunt yourself at Eric.” Putting my hand on Peter’s leg I add, “Mine.”
A huge smile breaks out on his face and he nods smugly, “I’ll tell them no then, they have enough to convict him without us giving testimonies.”
I still want out of the suite, “I don’t mind us doing that Peter, but no flaunting at other people and the damn v-necks of yours are not for public outings.”
He looks even more pleased and leans in towards me, “Oh Stiles, you might be unromantic and not into large public displays of affection but you certainly know how to mark your territory,” booping our noses he goes off to tell the werewolves to go to hell he’s all mine, whether I want him or not.
It also reinforces my understanding that I’m Mated and that comes with far more consequences than marriage, I’m not getting out of this without Peter dying, or me dying, and whoever kills either one of us is going to die a horrible death at the hands of the werewolves, maybe even the ghouls.
Distracting myself with messing around with our albums I get to see Peter bound back up the stairs and he hurries over to me, “Stiles, they’ve agreed we don’t need to go. Eric will be sentenced in the next hour and if found guilty he’ll be dead in two hours. Which means I’ve made a grocery list the hotel is fulfilling for us, and we have two hours to pack, then we can go home.”
“Home?” We can really go home?
“There’s nothing to stop us anymore, Klaus and his blood user are dead, and Eric will be soon,” he shrugs, “It’ll be nice to sleep in our own bed, to send you off to school smelling so happy and excited. We can start our date nights too. I can’t wait to cook in my kitchen, I’ve missed it. There’s basketball to play, your dance classes to attend. We need to arrange some therapy sessions if we can find anyone that’s good enough for you. Richard wanted to teach you too. And we’ll walk in the forest. You need to have friends over and go to your friends’ houses too,” he’s getting excited and I laugh at him, “What? We have the rest of our lives to live Stiles, I don’t want us to be forced to live in a hotel suite, no matter how nice it is. Soon you’ll have college to go to, you’re going to love college Stiles,” he rambles on about things we can do and see, road trips we can take, holidays we can go on.
“I need to start packing,” he glances at his watch, “The sooner we start the sooner we can go,” and then he vanishes off into our bedroom.
Sitting there I can feel my throat tighten up and dream dad pops up beside me, “Stiles, breathe, just breathe,” I do, I breathe and calm myself down. Twisting so I look up at dad I feel a bit like a traitor because the life Peter’s describing really isn’t that bad. “No it’s not,” dad agrees, “The only problem we have with it is that you didn’t get a chance to pick it, he forced you into it, he raped you and he enjoyed it, and you don’t love him.”
Derek flickers into view, “I don’t think he’s healthy for you, not in the long run,” he scrubs a hand over his face, “But then he has been treating you with more respect lately, he’s still trying to dominate you, to control you, and you are giving in to him and he’s also giving into you.” Shrugging his shoulders and then crossing his arms Derek gives me a pained look, “If you want to try and see if you two could have a relationship I won’t try and talk you out of it, but if he screws up, if he hurts you again I will not stop trying to convince you to leave him, and I’ll help you plan how to kill him.”
“We’ve been talking,” Lydia is filing her nails again, “We all agree that you’re stuck for now. That you need time to learn how to use your abilities. And most importantly of all that Peter is trying to take care of you, he’s still abusive, but he’s learning not to be. As long as he’s good to you we’ll include him in your Pack.”
Blinking in shock I see them all appear one by one, Scott smiles at me, “I wish you’d gone home when you had the chance bro, but you didn’t, so we’ll do everything we can to make you happy Stiles, even if it means supporting Peter. We don’t like him but we’ll accept him. And don’t forget you can change your mind any time you want and we’ve got some ideas on how to kill him, we’re still working on how to keep you safe after that.”
“Thank you,” I mutter and I haven’t made up my mind just yet. I’m not ready to just give up, but I’m also not going to turn my back on what Peter’s offering either.
Getting up I wander into our room and help Peter pack up our things. He’s right the sooner we start the faster we’ll be done. I watch him methodically put things into our cases, and then have to sit on them because he’s bought way too many clothes. He’s happy, he hums, he talks about things for us to do in Wolf Creek, occasionally he strikes a provocative pose or bends in certain ways and my mouth goes dry.
I can’t believe this is the same man that Bit Scott, that chased us through the school, that crouched over Lydia, that made me help him find Derek. He’s making plans to go shopping with Aaron’s mom, to have coffee meetings, to expand our business and employ more people.
Carrying some things for him I put them on the bed and then get sent back to start clearing out the bathroom. He’s checking everywhere to make sure he doesn’t leave anything behind. It kind of reminds me of our first hotel in Salt Lake City, I was so afraid of him then, of what he would do to me. I can’t help but wonder what our first homecoming would have been like if Marianne had let us complete our road trip, would he have been even more invested in me then? Could I have talked him out of raping me? Could we really be at the point where I’d be kissing him and learning how to top him?
Two hours later we’re told Eric is dead, I’m not surprised and I’m not really that upset, he was a true monster, and he wanted Peter to teach him how to be a better monster. I get to see Peter thank Mr Williams, the werewolves and the human guards, I get to see him smile at me and I don’t see a monster, oh he’s more than capable of being one, but he’s not Martin, he’s not Eric, he’s just Peter.
Now I have to work out if I want to spend the rest of my life with Peter. Hopping up into our Hummer I put my seatbelt on and settle in for the drive home. I’m excited about going home, and I’m excited about the plans that Peter’s been talking about. We’ll have to wait and see what life holds for us, I have time to choose whether to stay or go, until then I’ll enjoy some peace and quiet, let myself heal some more, I think I’m due some time to relax and just be a teen, admittedly a married teen, but still a teen.
Peter winds his way through the city and New York eventually falls away behind us to be replaced with slowly rising land and the snow here is deeper. It won’t be long now and I bury myself in the iPad so I won’t distract Peter while he’s driving.
We make it safely home and in one piece, the now familiar shape of our house in front of us and it really does feel like I’m coming home. I bounce out of the Hummer and open the door to our house. It looks the same as when we left it, I know Peter asked Aaron’s family to come keep an eye on it while we were away and they took good care of it. Leaving Peter to struggle with the heavy overfull bags I go and grab the groceries, I put them away and make us some instant hot chocolate, then I sprinkle the mugs with little marshmallows.
Sipping mine, I carry Peter’s through to the bedroom where he’s glaring at our luxuriously large built in wardrobes. There’s no way all his new clothes are gonna fit in there, “Here,” I hold the mug out to him.
“Thank you,” he absently sips at the hot beverage and keeps glaring at the offending wardrobes.
“You know that joke about you and basements isn’t sounding so outrageous right now, only it’d be full of your clothes and not dismembered bodies and rats,” I point out to be funny.
“Perhaps,” is all he says, “It’s a little drastic but it’s doable, or I could keep some of this in storage and swap them around monthly,” he sighs, “Maybe I should have bought us a bigger house.”
“Maybe, but I like this one, it’s comfy,” I tell him and he turns to smile at me.
“I’m glad you like it Stiles, it is good isn’t it,” He’s being smug again, “Now I just have to work out how to fit my clothes into it.” It startles a laugh out of me and I move closer to sling an arm around him.
“We’ll work it out Peter, somehow we’ll work it out,” I pat his shoulder and his arm snakes around my waist as we stare at the wardrobe together.