Disclaimer: Don't own Teen Wolf. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: I love Peter. He's basically my problematic fave in Teen Wolf and despite being the manipulative bastard that he is, I can't bring myself to dislike him. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with Ian's performance. Also, I've always enjoyed the Pydia dynamic. I think they have an interesting relationship and part of what inspired this fic came from my desire to explore it.

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ties that bind
A Deal with the Devil

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Eichen House's supernatural wing was located in the basement of the facility, deep underground and as far away from the "normal" patients as possible. It was heavily guarded and, as a final line of defense, Mountain Ash and various ancient runes were built into the structure, preventing the creatures kept there from escaping. As the Orderly lead her to her destination, Lydia tried not to listen to the screams that echoed around her – both living and dead. When they reached the cell at the end of the corridor, the Orderly came to a halt and took out a ring of keys. He rapped his knuckles against the barrier, alerting its occupant of their presence.

"Get up, Hale. Someone's here to see you."

In the end, his announcement wasn't necessary, because Peter was already up, standing in the middle of the six-by-eight cell like he'd been expecting them. Her. It was all very Hannibal Lecter, a reference Lydia was sure Stiles would have appreciated had he been there. She felt her chest tighten at the thought of him, but kept her expression neutral. The last thing she wanted was for Peter to have the advantage. She waited until the Orderly was gone before turning her attention to the werewolf before her, fully taking him in.

He had definitely seen better days. His clothes were disheveled and his hair had grown out, its unkemptness giving him a more wild appearance. It reminded her of the night she'd resurrected him, after he'd clawed his way out of the grave. Peter cocked his head and smirked, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. It was a front, of course; he was a werewolf, not a mind reader.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite Banshee." He said by way of greeting. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit? It's been so long since I've seen anyone. How is our little ragtag pack of misfits faring without my tutelage? I fear I'm rather out of the loop these days."

The "our" was not lost on her, and she narrowed her eyes, knowing full well that he was trying to get a rise out of her. Well, two could play at that game.

"We're great." She said, hoping he couldn't detect the skip in her heartbeat. "Scott's becoming a better Alpha every day."

"I'm sure he is." Peter drawled. "Is that why you're here, Lydia? To rub salt on my wounds?"

"You brought this on yourself." She reminded him, gesturing to their surroundings.

"I beg to differ."

"You tried to kill Scott."

"It was nothing personal. I like Scott – I do," he insisted, when Lydia shot him a disbelieving glance, "but Scott's way of doing things will be his pack's undoing."

"And you thought… what? That you'd make a better Alpha?" Lydia challenged.

"I don't think. I know." Blue eyes flashed dangerously and Lydia froze, breath catching in her throat. Holding her gaze, Peter went on. "I'm a born wolf. If Talia hadn't come first, I would have inherited it once my mother passed. It's my birthright and unlike our dear, hopelessly naïve Scott, I know how packs are supposed to operate. The Hales were strong once. We thrived for centuries – until my sister took the reigns." The bitterness in his voice did not go unnoticed by her, but she held her tongue and listened.

"I loved my sister but she was too idealistic, too trusting, always wanting to see the good in others, even those who wanted us dead, who saw us as nothing more than ravenous dogs that needed to be put down – sound familiar? I tried to warn her. Countless times. Over and over, I told her that Gerard and his ilk would come after us but she never listened. If she if she had, perhaps she would have kept tighter leash on my nephew and tragedy could have been avoided."

Lydia stood there, stunned, her feet rooted to the floor. She'd expected some back-and-forth banter, sure – that's generally how most interactions with Peter went – but Peter unloading all of his emotional turmoil was… new. She honestly didn't know how to respond, and wondered if he'd gone a little stir crazy during his stay at Eichen.

"And now Scott is following that same path." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain his composure. "In order for a pack to thrive, sometimes you have to make harsh decisions, and eliminate the threat before it strikes. Scott will never do that."

She hated that he was right. Scott was too good to "eliminate" potential threats. Her mind drifted to Theo and all the trouble he'd caused; the trouble that could have been avoided had Scott been more cautious. Cautious. Not ruthless, not what Peter was suggesting.

There had to be a middle ground.

"Where was this insight when you were the Alpha?" Lydia asked when she found her voice again.

Peter chuckled darkly. "I admit, I wasn't in my right mind back then, simply acting on pure instinct. Had I not been so reckless, I could have rebuilt my pack and made the Hale name great again."

"Instead you went on a murderous rampage and got yourself killed." Lydia said before adding scathingly, "And then used me to bring you back."

She still had nightmares about it; about him mauling her on the lacrosse field, claws and teeth sinking into her flesh, the stench of her blood filling the air and Stiles' voice calling out to her before she lost consciousness. She still had nightmares about Peter invading her mind, one minute flipping desks and threatening her, and the next seducing her. Lydia was never certain how much of it was real and how much was a hallucination; at the time she'd simply thought she was going insane, and after she hadn't wanted to think about it at all. The less she saw of Peter, the better, but Peter always seemed to find opportunities to worm his way into her life, one way or another.

She hated him.

"We're all works in progress." He said glibly, before looking at her once more. "But I'm sure you didn't come here to listen to my side of the story. We may share a connection but that only runs so deep. So why don't you just cut to the chase and tell me exactly why you're here, Lydia? It's certainly not because you care for my wellbeing."

At least he knew where he stood.

"I need your help."

"Of course you do, sweetheart." He said, eyes glinting knowingly. "But why should I help you?"

"Because if you don't, I'll make sure you rot in here for the rest of your life." Lydia spat.

Peter arched a brow. "Was that not the plan when you left me here?"

"Plans change." The strawberry-blonde replied. "If you agree to help, you'll be out of here tonight. With me."

The Beta eyed her suspiciously.

"They're not going to let me simply walk out of here. After all, I'm a threat to society." He said, completely blasé about it.

Lydia smirked. "And Eichen House is a corrupt institution not above accepting monetary bribes."

In an instant, Peter's nonchalant demeanor cracked. He stared at her with something akin to wonder.

"You never cease to amaze me."

"Too bad I can't say the same for you." She said with a sugary sweet smile.

And just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

"I would like to remind you that you came here begging for my help."

"I don't beg. I negotiate."

"Call it what you will." He shrugged.

Lydia licked her lips. "So… do we have a deal?"

Peter let out a dramatic sigh.

"I suppose it's better than being cooped up in here. Shall we?" He started toward her, probably more than a little eager to leave, but stopped short when Lydia raised a hand.

"First, I need to know if… if the name Stiles Stilinski means anything to you." There was a slight tremor in her voice that she was sure Peter noticed, but thankfully didn't remark on. Instead he just pinned her with a quizzical glance.

"Is that a trick question or?" He made a vague gesture with his hand, like he was waiting for the punch line.

"So you recognize it?" Relief blossomed in her chest; it felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Of course I recog…" he trailed off with a frown. "Why do you ask?"

"Stiles is gone." She informed him. "I don't mean that he ran away or was kidnapped by some monster-of-the-week. I mean gone. Vanished. As in there is no trace that he was ever here – that he ever existed at all. And no one remembers him. It's like their memories have been wiped or… altered, somehow. But I think Stiles knew something was going to happen – or something was." She thought back to what he'd told her, about the sleepwalking and hallucinations.

Scott had once told her that Stiles' mother had suffered from Frontotemporal dementia, and if they lived anywhere else, Lydia might have written his symptoms off as something medical. But they didn't. They lived in Beacon Hills. Their town was a literal beacon for supernatural activity, which was why Lydia was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that whatever had been going on with Stiles before he disappeared, was directly related to what was happening now.

She glanced over at Peter and watched him closely as he absorbed what she'd just divulged, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Does any of that sound familiar?" She hated how hopeful she sounded.

"Possibly." He said after a long pause, lifting his gaze. "Tell me, Lydia… what do you know about Faeries?"

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You read that right.

Faeries.

This was a relatively short chapter, but a quick update. I honestly wasn't expecting to be finished this soon but here it is.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Please REVIEW and let me know what you think.