That episode has mentally scarred me for life! I'm dead inside! It wasn't until Stiles's Dad and Scott didn't know he was, then I was wailing like a baby - what the hell was he going to say to Scott? Guess we'll have to wait. This is my first fic with Peter in, I do love myself some Peter Hale
Stiles Stilinski didn't fight the grasp of the Wild Hunt, they just kept a tight grip on his arms as they dragged him through hell. The young boy felt like a ragdoll being dragged across the floor, he closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the physical and emotional pain traveling through his veins. He muttered under his breath, listing the names of everyone he cared about and/or everyone he loved, in an attempt that some sort of miracle would help them hear his cry for help, hear the sound of his grief-struck voice, "Dad, Scott, Lydia, Malia, Melissa, Derek, Cora, Isaac, Liam, Hayden, Mason, Parrish, Corey...even freaking Jackson," he muttered inaudibly, his eyes still squeezed together tightly. "Please...somebody hear me," the patience and the confusion was too much, everything had happened too fast; he opened his eyes and closed them straight away.
The place he was pitch dark and as terrifying as when Void claimed him as his own, the dragging came to a sudden stop and Stiles then felt like he was falling, he kept his eyes closed until he crashed down to the ground. He stayed put for a while, not moving because of the overwhelming sense of agony, he moved his fingers first and then he clenched his fingers together, he bit his lip and tried not to cry. "Stiles..." he heard his name echo out, at first he didn't response the voice, why would he? It was erased from his memory months before; his Bambi-like eyes snapped open as he took a deep breath in, the memories rushing back.
A firm grip took hold of him and guided him to his feet, Stiles looked down at the ground; it was coated with leaves that seemed to blow across the floor at a quick pace, he took his hands and looked at them with blurry vision as the strong hands kept him up right. He fell a little into the figure, but the person kept him up right. Stiles felt like his whole world as over, he felt like pain was now his every feeling and he thought if the person let go, he'd keel over and die. He heard whispers, but he ignored them, he heard a voice that brought him back.
Stiles finally looked up at his supporter; he had to look for a while to be able to remember exactly who that man in front of him was, his mind had to catch up with everything. Peter Hale was not the first face he had wished for, but he could think of few people who would be a worse choice. The Father of a girl he once held, a girl was still best friends with, was okay to an extent.
Emotions ripped through Stiles and tears finally trailed down his cheeks, Peter knew what the boy was going through, he also knew how much the pack loved him. Peter, for the first time in his entire life, acted like an adult, whom he was in that situation and stood Stiles into a half-hearted hug as the kid cried for what he had lost, for what all of Beacon Hills lost.
The real tragedy was, in fact, Stiles had been through so much and even Peter freaking Hale knew that: his Mum died of dementia, he was possessed by an evil spirit, he was almost murdered by his ex-girlfriend's demonic Mother and now everyone who loved him didn't even know he existed.
Peter wouldn't have been his first choice, but Stiles was overwhelmed with so much emotion, that at that moment, his enemy was his friend and the only one he was going to have for a while.