*Author's note at the end
Chapter One
-Wrong Door-
"You were in Eichen, Peter…" Stiles is giving him a look. He should know what that look means yet his brain latches onto the statement.
Eichen House.
Peter's annoyed expression turns into a cold mask. He's gotta give it to Stiles. The kid doesn't flinched at his glare. "I was. I wonder who put me there?" Of course, it's a rhetorical question since they're both very aware of how and why Peter was left to rot in Eichen House.
The thought seems to trigger more of Peter's true memories.
The torture under his temporary cellmate, Valack, the scum guards, all the miserable time spent in that small, dingy cell. He'd kept patient through it all, knowing he'd have to remain alert in order to catch his chance when the time came.
Well, he'd lost his mind from time to time, but who could blame him and he always came back to himself after his lapses.
Peter remembers the lights going out and the alarms ringing painfully in his ears. The door to his cell had swung open and he'd been able to simply walk out. The hallway was in total chaos, the smell of fear and blood already pungent in the air as the other prisoners attacked each other or wasted time paying the guards back for their hospitality.
He'd ignored them all, going right for the exit instead; swiftly removing anyone stupid enough to get in his way and moving on. He understood the other inmates' motivations but revenge wouldn't mean much if you weren't out to enjoy the aftermath.
His breath caught as his mind focused with perfect clarity to the moment right before he'd escaped his own level. Another prisoner had come bulldozing out of their cell, grappling onto Peter. The crazed inmate had gone right for Peter's shoulder, growling and gnawing on it like a dog with a bone; or more accurately a wolf.
Peter had responded by plunging a clawed hand under the attacker's ribs then driving upwards to the heart. The heart in his claws made its last beat in short order. Air rushed into Peter's lungs as he felt the Alpha power course through him once more.
After all the scheming and plotting, after all the failures, Peter had gotten what he'd desired the most by pure happenstance.
It's strange really, Peter had had no idea that Eichen was housing an actual Alpha Werewolf. Though admittedly, given the now dead body pressing against Peter's chest, the Alpha couldn't have been in a very good condition. He dropped the body at his feet, the wet squelch going unheard amidst the chaos.
It wasn't his family's Power but there was no way Peter was going to let anyone take this away from him.
It had taken all of Peter's considerable self-control to remain quiet, to keep from roaring in triumph and move towards freedom. He was able to reach the upper levels with little resistance; clearly someone else was keeping Eichen's guards busy. It wasn't hard to guess who.
Once he'd made it out of the building Peter had ran right to the forest. He'd made his way into town after cleaning up as much as he could of the blood and gore in a stream. All the evidence and scents washed conveniently away.
Peter had been in the middle of appropriating a vehicle when the Ghost Riders came for him. It happened too quickly; one minute he was dragging a Rider off of his horse, only to have another shoot Peter in the back.
Afterwards, nothing had been more important than waiting for that stupid train. Until he'd seen Stiles, that is.
And now Stiles had snapped him out of one nightmare to lead him into another.
Peter struggled to keep himself calm as he rose from the bench and took in the decrepit dusty train station. Beacon Hills hadn't had a functional train station in decades.
It would take some serious power to influence his mind to such an extent. It made Peter want to roar in anger that his mind had been played with again. He needed to keep at least some cards to himself though, so he tried to keep his mask of cool indifference. Of course with Stiles here to watch him his efforts were almost pointless.
When Stiles let out a strangled sort of squawk, Peter knew the boy had caught the flash of red in his eyes.
"Oh my God! Seriously Peter!? It's only been three months since we broke Lydia out of Eichen! How the hell are you an Alpha?" Stiles splutters and gesticulates with his hands wildly. If the situation weren't so dire he'd be lording this over the kid.
Instead he tuts, "Pure luck, I swear." He raises an eyebrow at Stiles' disbelieving snort. "Did you know there was an Alpha in Eichen? I certainly didn't, as I wasn't exactly allowed to stroll around." Peter's very aware of how bitter he sounds, and he's rather satisfied to see Stiles wilt with guilt for a moment.
"Imagine my surprise when I'm attacked on my way out -thank you for the distraction by the way- and quite suddenly-" Peter's eyes glow red. He shrugs his shoulders. Stiles can take it or leave it; there are other things for them to talk about. Like what the hell is going on for instance.
Surprisingly enough, Stiles doesn't pester Peter about how he became an Alpha again. Instead they focus on how he and Stiles ended up in this place and by focus, Peter means they argue.
As always, Stiles is nauseatingly confident that there's a way out. Despite Peter's explanation that the Riders are an unstoppable supernatural force and that the whole purpose of this place is to keep them here. For what exactly? Peter's not sure. Yet.
Seeing Stiles' frantic and unflinching search for escape is catching though. As annoying as it is, Peter finds himself scanning their surroundings for clues.
Cooler heads do prevail it seems, since Peter quickly spots someone doing a rather poor job of spying on them. Seems whoever it is, has been stuck here for some time. A thin teenager with messy hair and dark circles under his eyes are focused on Stiles, who's still trying to walk out the door, only to pop up on the other side of the room.
And of course Stiles just charges forward, confronting the other boy without hesitation. It gives Peter the opportunity to flank the spying youth; they've always worked so well together despite Stiles always being so contrary on the matter.
Peter can't help but enjoy the cocky smirk Stiles gives them when the boy states they couldn't possibly be capable of accomplishing this supposed escape plan.
The revelation of the second tunnel leaves Peter slightly embarrassed that he hadn't seen it. At least he can take comfort in the fact that Stiles obviously feels the same way. They both make a good show of being unphased by it, of course.
He's not afraid of going into the dark foreboding tunnel, not really. It's just his brain keeps telling him he should be. But once Stiles pushes Peter through the threshold, it's easy to see the deception. He also make it obvious that he's taking pleasure in the fact that he has to pull Stiles into the new tunnel.
Of course, it's all for nothing. Peter makes it clear that he's not really impressed about finding another dead end.
It's an easy enough dig that it finally gets the kid, whose name they still don't know, talking about the exit.
Once the plan is laid out, it's Peter's turn for optimism. It isn't so much as he think's it's a good idea but he wants to see if it'll work.
Now, if Stiles would quit being a bleeding heart and let the kid take the jump. Peter could actually start coming up with something.
It's a shame when just as both he and Stiles thought it would actually work the boy is stopped by the barrier and burns before their eyes. It's not a pretty sight; nor smell.
The Riders pass without any problems, though. What really puzzles Peter however is the fact that the Riders tried to throw the human off at all. If only the Riders could pass through the barrier, why fight so hard to keep them away from there?
Stiles turns to him, obviously upset and angry. Peter understands; that had been their one shot at escape apparently. The odds aren't in their favor.
"You knew he was going to die." Peter's not sure why Stiles is voicing things they both know. He makes sure his look says as much.
The tone is off too, but there's something about Stiles' that's changed and it's been frustrating Peter to no end. There are the changes he would expect from not having seen the teen for some time. Stiles is slightly taller, his hair's grown out again and all in all it's obvious that the teen is on the cusps of adulthood. All things Peter expected.
Still, there's something more than just the general distress this sort of situation warranted.
"Well, now we know." An idea has been forming in his head for a while but he needs to go about this the right way or he'll be forced to leave Stiles behind. It's not that he isn't willing to do just that but having Stiles on his side would likely increase their chances of success.
"Know what? That we're stuck here until my friends remember me and come up with a way to save us?" The teen lets out a frustrated huff as he leans on a nearby pillar.
Peter almost snorts at how ridiculous that statement is. He can understand how Stiles would think that for himself, but does he really think that Peter would wait for that rag-tag band of teenage idiots to save him?
As if they would even consider saving Peter, anyway. Besides, the only one of them smart enough to figure this out is stuck here with him.
"Actually, I was going to suggest we jump out once the Riders have made their next delivery." He suggests this casually, like he's talking about going for a stroll. There's no guarantee this will work of course, but it'll help if Peter at least looks and sounds like he believes his own bullshit.
"Excuse me? We? Did you start forgetting again or did the dude disintegrating in mid-air not make an impression on you?" Stiles speaks to him with the usual scorn and sarcasm that makes Peter sort of glad for that little bit of normality. He's also a little disappointed that the teen hasn't figured it out yet.
"Yes, we. Don't be ridiculous, he was just a human." Peter tries again, wondering if it'll be enough for his plan to become evident.
Stiles throws his hands up, another noise of frustration and the words that come after have the unmistakable tang of bitterness. Stiles reeks of negative emotions which is not a smell Peter finds enjoyable on the other. "And so am I, damn it! Remember poor fleshy, breakable, human Stiles!" Stiles becomes almost violent in his agitation, harshly smacking his own chest while he yells at Peter.
Peter frowns; that had been a rather unexpected response. Something significant really had happened while he'd been out of the picture. "Now is it your memory that's slipping, Stiles?" He steps into the teen's space, eyes brightly glowing red in the dark tunnel.
There's a long silence. He can see a myriad of expressions flitting through those big brown eyes before Stiles takes a single step back.
Peter can't help wondering what Stiles will look like with glowing blue eyes.
"My.. my friends will remember me, they'll come for me." The teen stammers with false bravado. It's a flimsy lie and Peter thinks he'll have to be cruel to get Stiles to see the truth of things.
"How?" He growls, letting some of his own frustration slip out. "We might as well be dead! It's what the Riders do, we've been forgotten, erased without a trace. The only way your precious friends are gonna figure this out, is if you're there to help them!"
"Lydia." Stiles offers desperately.
"Unless I've missed something extraordinary, her powers are still unreliable and she usually needed your guidance." Peter tries to mollify his tone a little. He can see he won't have much more to do to get Stiles on board. "You say I've been here for at least three months; no one -myself included- had a clue. How long do you think you've been here for Stiles? How many times do you think we've had this very conversation?"
Silence meets Peter's questions. He steps back, to give Stiles a bit more space but not so far that he's out of reach.
Peter won't admit it but he is terrified that he could be right. That they've been stuck here in this holding pen with all the other catatonic humans for so long that Beacon Hills is gone. Who knows how long they've truly been here for? For all they know time could very well be meaningless here.
There's also a very good chance that even if Peter's plan works and they do not happen to die out right, by the time they'll have healed there could be no one left. It was still better than waiting here only to fade into the ether or worse; they could be stuck in this place indefinitely.
"That gate is meant for supernatural creatures, Stiles, I won't tell you it won't hurt but we'll heal." Peter offers one more bit of encouragement.
"What if I reject the Bite?" Stiles counters, Peter isn't surprised by the way the kid's heart is rabbiting.
"First off, you won't, I've always believed you would make a great wolf," Peter ignores Stiles' snort. "On the exceedingly low chance that you reject it… you and I both know what our chances are if we stay here. Who knows what this place will do to us if we just sit and wait." Is Peter surprised by this little bit of honesty he's offering? Yes. Does he regret it? Judging by the look Stiles gives him, Peter is going to say no.
"I let you bite me and you stick around to help us. This means all of my friends." Peter beams despite the fact that Stiles is making terms, mostly because that means Stiles knows Peter's won.
Peter's got terms of his own of course but those can wait.
"Stop with the creeper face! I mean it, Peter, there's gonna be rules and if this doesn't work and I die, then you have to promise you'll get out and save the others, save my dad." The teen's heartbeat is steady again, Stiles won't budge on this. Peter's always secretly enjoyed that stubborn streak.
If Stiles is agreeing to take the Bite though, Peter will agree to those terms despite how stupid he thinks Stiles is being. He nods in agreement.
"No, say it Peter, promise me." Stiles stands his ground yet he's not coming across as challenging. He'll make a fine wolf, Peter thinks with small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"I promise that if you take the Bite, I'll help your friends whether you live or die." Peter reaches for Stiles' right hand so he can bring the wrist up once he gets the go ahead, just like the last time. "But Stiles, you won't die."
Stiles allows Peter to come closer, he doesn't visibly flinch when Peter's fangs drop but his heart beat picks back up momentarily. It's a good show of how much Stiles has grown that it slows down to a calm steady rhythm with what seems to be little effort.
"Okay, we have a deal." Stiles swallows thickly then practically shoves his wrist into Peter's mouth. "Do it."
"I don't feel any different." Stiles doesn't even stop his pacing from one side of tunnel to the other.
Peter groans, this is the fourth time Stiles has said that since Peter bit him; which was roughly five minutes ago. "I've told you Stiles, the Bite is different for everyone. You've always struck me as a late bloomer."
Stiles' indignant squawk is a welcome distraction. Peter's sure he should have been able to tell right away but there's something about this place that seems to mute his senses. There's one way he could make sure right now, but Stiles isn't going to like it of course.
Peter takes a resigned breath. "Stiles come here." The teen stops and looks at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting. "Please." The word feels torn out of his throat - Stiles is his beta now, he shouldn't have to say please. But it's Stiles so he indulges him, for now. Teenagers…
"Wow, did that hurt as much as it sounded?" The teen smirks before walking casually towards Peter. Clearly they are testing their new boundaries already. Which is fine.
"Give me your hand." Peter extends his own, "Please." Thankfully instead of the witty retort he's been expecting, Stiles complies but his mouth can never stay quiet for long.
"I don't think biting me twice is gonna make it better Peter." There's a nervous chuckle. Humor and sarcasm, even poor attempts like these, had always been Stiles fallback.
Peter shakes his head with an indulging smile. "No Stiles, I'm going to break your finger." Stiles tries to snatch his hand back which Peter had been expecting, so the Alpha easily holds the hand back. "This place is messing with my finer senses; so if the Bite took, you'll heal. If it didn't take, you won't." Peter shrugs. They've already discussed that.
There's a hesitant pause from Stiles, then the teen deflates with a glare but there's no real heat to it. "I hate it so much when you make sense."
Peter doesn't give Stiles time to think any more about it, quickly taking the other's index finger and snapping it cleanly all the while keeping his gaze locks with Stiles' eyes.
Right as the snap rings out in the silent tunnel Stiles yelps at the pain.
Peter sighs in relief a moment later as brown eyes glow blue. The beta's pained noise turning into a growl. "You're such an ass, Peter."
They watch quietly as Stiles' finger heals shortly after that rather accurate pronouncement. "Huh. So that worked."
"Yes, Stiles. Eloquent as ever, of course." Peter rolls his eyes, of course it worked.
"Stop gloating." Stiles studies his hand, a frown of concentration creasing his forehead then Peter watches as the once human hands gain claws. "That's so freaking weird, I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
"Keep practicing that. It would be better if you could have some form of control over your shift when the Riders come back." Peter almost wishes they could have more time like this, almost. He's got just about everything he wants now; he's an Alpha, he has a pack, sure it's just him and Stiles now, but there's so much potential there. Unfortunately they're stuck here with no means of making use of any of it.
Such a bleak and witless future isn't something Peter can abide so if he needs to risk his and Stiles' life to escape, then so be it.
Stiles fanged smile droops, human features taking place once more. No doubt his beta has just had similar thoughts. A resolute expression ages the teens face. "Right."
Peter spends the next hour teaching Stiles as much about using his werewolf abilities as he can; thankfully the kid is a motivated learner on top of all his own experiences with the supernatural. More evidence that Peter had been right all along that Stiles would take to being a werewolf like he'd been born into it.
When the Ghost Riders return, a clap of thunder announces their imminent return. Peter is still seventy percent sure they'll survive.
Peter quickly pulls Stiles behind a pillar just as the Riders come through the barrier. Once all the Riders have passed them and gone into the station the sounds of screaming people and repeated gunfire echoes into the tunnel.
"Guess they didn't appreciate the last escape attempt." Stiles mumbles darkly.
Peter nods in agreement. It explains why the Riders are being excessively aggressive during this drop off. "Which is why you'll have to hold on extra tight, Stiles." Peter takes hold of Stiles' shoulders to make sure his Beta is listening. "Do not let go, no matter what they do, dig your claws in if you have to."
Stiles wrinkles his nose at the idea, but agrees.
"We'll wait until most of the Riders have gone through, then jump on the last two. You go first." Peter directs Stiles, who's looking at Peter in confusion, to a pillar that's closer to the portal; the less time the Riders have to react, the better. At the last minute Peter pauses by one of the benches on the platform.
The gunshots have stopped and Peter can hear the horses coming their way. "Hurry up Stiles! You can do this!" He pushes the new werewolf away, who finally snaps out of it and does as Peter says.
Quickly, Peter pushes the bench onto the track before running to join Stiles. It should slow the Riders down some, maybe even cause some confusion.
When the first Rider stops in front of the bench, his mount whinnying in complaint at the obstacle, Peter and Stiles are as ready as they'll ever be.
They share a grim look, this is their best chance to escape. Peter tries to smile, to look confident. It's as much for Stiles' benefit as his own, mostly because this is the sort of stunt that goes against all of Peter's self-preservation instincts. But he can't stay here another minute.
Stiles grabs Peter's arm. The Riders are leaving.
This is it.
Peter remembers this kind of agony well, which means he knows it's not as bad as the first time but a bit more severe than the second time he'd been made into a living torch. He's badly burned from head to toe still, nerve endings so raw that he howled reflexively. An answering howl comes from somewhere near him, so full of pain it sounds more like a sob.
Stiles. He can feel the beta in his mind, his panic along with the pain. He tries to use their link to remind Stiles that he's not alone, that they'll heal. That's the extent of what Peter can do for now, though.
They've done it, they've actually escaped and lived. The price had been steep but they would heal. Stiles sobs again - the beta's new instincts no doubt - pushing out a weak howl calling to his Alpha for help.
Once Peter's healed, he'll be able to help Stiles' recovery quicken, give him some solace from the pain. Give Stiles what Laura had denied Peter. That'll take time however.
Peter wants to move, he tries to will his limbs to move despite the agony of his blistered and broken flesh. The feeling of dirt and wet leaves clinging to his seared flesh makes him want to vomit. Not to mention the other smells; it's not just the smell of burnt skin or the smell of his and Stiles' pain, no; it's the smell of the world that's simply wrong on a level Peter can't comprehend right now.
Even if the healing process has already started, there's a lot of damage and every second feels like a burning eternity.
Stiles manages to shift closer to Peter, growling and whining with effort and pain.
Not to be outdone, Peter continues his own efforts. He tries to remain quiet, as they've already risked giving away their positions enough as it is. He's not really as silent as he'd like to but he does manage to crawl towards Stiles.
There's a new smell in the air just as their hands reach for the others'. Peter stops moving, it's almost like charged ozone accompanied by a strange high pitched sound that makes his ears ache. More smells reach his nose; it's not anyone he's familiar with. Some are human while others definitely aren't.
They can't take the risk of being captured, not again. Peter refuses to go back to that place. Or anywhere else that isn't of his own choosing for that matter.
He can see lights flashing towards him, the sound of running steps. Stiles - despite being freshly Bitten and grievously wounded - hears the incoming sounds as well. He also manages to pick up from Peter that it's probably not a rescue party coming for them.
Peter manages to raise himself off of the ground, but he can't maintain this posture for long, though he's still trying to hold it as long as he can. He attempts to shift his form, but he's too injured to manage anything except the simple shift of his face and claws though.
He roars with everything he's got, hoping it'll be enough of a warning to keep others away.
There's a pause from the advancing group. Confused shouts along with words and languages that he doesn't quite understand.
Communicating telepathically with his Beta isn't easy yet, but Peter will use any advantage he can get. Using his link to Stiles, the Alpha shows his beta what's happening.
Peter, for all his ego, knows his own limitations; and Stiles had always proven himself reliable under these sorts of circumstances.
A new voice coolly rings over the other voices, a tone that denotes a command; they're only a few yards away now. Even if he can't understand the words being said, Peter knows an argument when he hears one.
Peter takes this time to note his and Stiles' conditions. At this rate he gives himself a week or two tops or until the next full moon before he's at 100%. Stiles will take longer of course but with an Alpha to help him, Peter hopes it'll only take a few weeks. He shares these thoughts with Stiles.
The sound of a single set of footfalls pulls Peter from his planning. He growls, a low warning rumble. Stiles tries to mimic the sound; it's not as horrible as what he remembers of McCall's first try. It's not very intimidating either, though.
The steps stop nevertheless and the wind shifts giving Peter a nose full of information that throws him for a loop. Whoever is out there; they aren't human or any supernatural that he can think of, but at least they know enough to heed Peter's warning. Perhaps things aren't as dire as he'd thought.
Peter feels something touch his mind, trying to communicate. It's not invasive, more like the waiting hand for a handshake. He can pick up some words that have meaning; calm, help, doctor. There's more, something he thinks could have been Federation but it makes no sense to him.
He's about to warn the creature away when Stiles grabs his arm. Peter's genuinely surprised that the Beta can do that much, he's even more surprised when he feels Stiles in his mind telling him to stand down, to wait and play along.
This is why he needs Stiles. He'll be a great Second.
Peter lowers himself back to the ground, taking a crouching stance in front of Stiles. He tries to project his thoughts to the stranger, that he'll accept their aid for now. For Stiles. But he won't lower his guard yet.
He remains partially shifted, as people tended to be more cautious when they know they are dealing with an Alpha werewolf.
The moon shines through a break in the clouds, a waning gibbous moon; so they've just missed the full moon, Peter thinks offhandedly.
The lone stranger calls to the others who've smartly remained further back and is the first to break through the line of trees that guard the clearing in which Peter and Stiles have landed.
A tall female in some kind of uniform he doesn't recognize pauses just a few feet from them. She wears the white generic doctor's overcoat over the uniform. While she appears humans, there's something about her features as she slowly gets closer that throws Peter off.
Her expression is strangely calm, seemingly unbothered by the sight Peter and Stiles make. He does notice a slight wrinkle in her nose, the smell affecting her for a moment before she covers it flawlessly.
She steps closer, pulling some kind of device from her pocket.
He's getting tired; he knows that it's normal that adrenaline can only carry you so far and that even Alphas have their limits. He should rest but he can't until he knows more. Still the need to sleep persists and it dawns on Peter that it's the woman doing it.
He growls, trying to stand. The rest of the party - all wearing variations of the woman's uniform- filter into the clearing giving Peter a moment of doubt. Despite the fact that many look human there are a few that Peter is completely flummoxed by.
The women touches his shoulder without flinching, her expression still expertly neutral. Peter, for the first time in a very long time feels safe. His eyes flutter close and his features becoming human the moment he falls into a deep sleep.
Author's Note
This is a new project I've been wanting to do for a while, pretty excited to put it out there. Awesome beta work from Mizuki23, who really helped polish this and is all around amazing, thank you!
This is a WIP and I don't have a schedule for the next chapter. I do have a long list of projects right now and I'm doing my best to work on each of them as best I can.
Drop a review, let me know what you think. :)