Summary: I don't care about power. Not anymore. I care about you.
Stiles/Peter.
'It was terrifying, wasn't it?' He thought as he sat waiting, they all were, waiting for hope and hopeing for a miracle.
It had begun just like all the times before. Something had come to Beacon Hills, come to kill and destroy and they had gone out to fight it.
Gone out with Stiles' plan as per usual and while they were away Stiles had continued trying to discover weaknesses and ways to keep them from returning to hurt them again.
When they had returned Stiles had been dying, their enemy had discovered their weakness and had tried to eliminate Stiles, and now they were sitting lost in the waiting room of the Hospital or pacing for some of them.
For Peter he didn't have the strength to pace, otherwise he would be wearing a divot on the linolium as Derek and Lyda seemed to be.
Instead Peter was holding a flimsy cup of cold, horrible hospital coffee in hand, listening intently to the stutter start beating of Stiles' heart as he slept through the surgeons cutting into him and mending his hurts.
It really should concern him, how easily he had found and was able to focus on Stiles' heartbeat after he'd arrived at the Hospital. But he wasn't concerned, only comforted by the continued beating of the boy's heart as they worked on him.
Once he'd found Stiles' heartbeat to the theatre where he was being worked on Peter had stopped answering any questions, Derek had been the one to keep the rest from bothering him, Derek, at least understood what Peter was so intent on at the moment. His nephew had gotten him the horrible coffee, had forced it into his hand and left him to pace, trying and failing to keep his nervous energy from affecting the rest of the pack.
Scott stood suddenly and joined Lydia and Derek in their pacing, Scott's mother had been forced elsewhere, her attatchment to Stiles making her unable to assist in the surgery and she had been allowed to sit with them, taking the Sheriff's hand in hers as a comfort to the worried man.
It must have been hours later when Peter suddenly straightened from his slouch, standing swiftly and moving to hover before the doors where the doctors had rushed Stiles' through to surgery, several men and woman passed him but Peter made no move to stop or question them, waiting for the weary doctor who had saved Stiles' lift to arrive.
The pack moved almost as one when the doctor covered with Stiles' blood appeared through the doors, the doctor looked shocked and unnerved by the group that stood before him, before he gathered himself and addressed the Sheriff.
They all listened intently to the Doctor's words, except Peter who heard that Stiles had made it through the surgery and then left the conversation to search out Stiles' sluggish but rhythmic heartbeat once more.
"When can we see him?" The Sheriff asked softly, voice relieved but tired.
"We're settling him into the I.C.U. for the night at the very least, I can permit one person to remain with him for the night but I would not recomend it. Really you all should go home and get some rest tonight, we'll be moving him to a regular room tomorrow afternoon if he does well tonight and then you may all see him then." The Doctor informed them.
"I'll stay." Peter's mouth volunteered, "I won't sleep anyway, knowing he's here alone." He explained further at the curious looked he received.
Derek looked ready to protest along with Scott and the Sheriff, Scott had never trusted him fully and Derek knew exactly why Peter wanted, needed to stay and the Sheriff, well, the Sheriff was probably weirded out by someone his age hanging out with children, even if one of them was family, a father's concern for his son really.
But Peter needed to stay, for the same reason he'd been drawn to Stiles when he'd first woken from his coma, attracted to his scent until it was all he could focus on and Scott had been soaked in that alluring scent, the same reason Peter had offered the Bite to Stiles and yet hadn't forced it on the teenager, the same reason he'd not attacked the boy when he'd thrown moltov cocktails at him and burned him once again. Peter needed to stay for the same reason he searched out that slow steady beat of a young man's heart.
And Derek knew it, just as Peter was coming to realize, Stiles was Peter's mate.
Derek sighed and nodded, indicating to the Sheriff that he'd explain after they left and the Doctor led Peter up to Stiles' room where Peter made himself comfortable, the cold coffee drunk down and the cup thrown away before he settled in to wait for Stiles to wake, not expecting the steady beat of a working heart to lull him to sleep only to wake him when it quickened in panic and fear.
Peter's eyes shot open and he met Stiles' panicked gaze, standing quickly and shooshing the young man, explaining softly what had happened and where they were, listening as that heartbeat calmed and the panic faded away until it was again a steady rhythm.
Watching Stiles fade back into a restful, healing sleep Peter wondered when his priorities had changed. He wondered how it was that he hadn't noticed them changing, and he realized that he didn't care that they had.
Peter took Stiles' hand in his gently, pressing a brief kiss to the younger's knuckles.
"I don't care about power." He whispered into the stillness that was broken only by the beeping of the heart monitors that Peter ignored in favor of the more soothing thumping of Stiles' beating heart, "Not anymore. I care about you."