The Big Bad
Chapter 10
Scott grumbled wordlessly when his alarm went off, it was time to head to school. Barely awake, he went through his morning routine, doing the toilet, brushing his teeth and only when he grasped onto the bar above his door to do his morning exercises with one hand did he realize something was very, very wrong. He couldn't hold his weight up, at all. The events of yesterday begun to penetrate the sleepy fog surrounding him, and his heart sank so low and his stomach twisted unpleasantly.
He was no longer a werewolf, then he smiled, he wasn't a werewolf, he was normal. Grasping the bar with both hands, he determinedly begun to work out. Just because he wasn't a werewolf, didn't mean he wasn't strong. He didn't need wolf-y strength. Unfortunately, his determination only lived up to five pull ups, before his wheezing was in danger of becoming a full on asthma attack. No matter, Scott determined, brushing it off, it was just because he wasn't used to it anymore. He couldn't wait to tell Allison…Allison, his girlfriend, the girl who had hurt his best friend. No, Stiles had just been angry, he'd already forgiven her. They were friends, they could be friends again, and now they didn't need to be involved in the supernatural world anymore. Things could go back to normal.
"Morning mom!" Scott said cheerfully, as he begun to make himself a quick breakfast. She already knew of course, about his freedom from Wolfy-servitude. He'd told her right away, his bleak mood gone as soon as the others had disappeared from view as he realized he was free.
"How are you feeling?" Melissa asked, watching her son carefully, as tired as she was she had to know.
"I'm good," Scott said around a mouthful of cornflakes.
"I'm working the night shift tonight, I've refilled for your medication, I'll get it on my way home," Melissa informed him, her hand coming up hiding her tired yawn. She was going to have to take on a few more shifts to afford the sudden influx of Scott's medication again. Hopefully, her boss will be as accommodating as she normally was. Night shift gave her the better income so she'd choose them if given half a chance.
"Thanks, mom!" Scott replied, scooping up more food, scarfing it down hungrily.
"I'm heading to bed, don't be late to school," Melissa called out, leaving the kitchen still in her scrubs as she made her way tiredly to bed. Worry already beginning to get the better of her, between all her bills, mortgage, food, she truly worried that she'd struggle to find money for Scott's asthma. She was still mighty confused about how Scott was no longer a werewolf, but given everything she'd learned she honestly didn't think it was anything strange or unattainable.
Scott barely replied, as he swallowed down the last remains of his breakfast, excitement thrumming through him. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Allison yet, she hadn't answered any of his calls or text messages. He didn't blame her for being so upset, Harry had upset everyone. Allison wasn't like the rest of her family though, he loved her and loved him, they could get through anything.
Rubbing his stomach, feeling as though he'd eaten way too much, but its what he'd gotten used to eating. Shrugging it off, as he did with so many things he made his way to school. Reading Stiles messages but refraining from replying, he wanted Allison to reply not Stiles. He needed to know she was okay. Last night had been difficult for her, she'd been so devasted by Harry's words. How he loathed the guy for how he had acted…but liked him for giving him what he wanted more than anything else in this world. His humanity back. He'd longed for it for ages, and now he had it, he was on top of the world.
Rolling his eyes at Stiles texting and asking if he was alright, yet again, and if he had his inhaler, scowling. He could look after himself, he didn't need Stiles constantly acting like a mother hen. His mind went back to last night, he'd probably have had an attack if Stiles hadn't had that inhaler. Why he still had it Scott didn't want to know, he was just worried about him, well, he wasn't vulnerable just because he was human again, Stiles would just have to get used to it and stop pestering him.
He noticed immediately that Stiles jeep wasn't at the school. Jumping out of the car, he closed and locked the door. If anything happened to it his mother would absolutely kill him. immediately craning his neck to try and find Allison's car or you know, Allison herself. As always forgetting Stiles the moment he thought of Allison.
He wasn't successful with either, but he could no longer look as the warning bell went, he had to get to class. Biting his lip, the urge to just ditch school and make his way to the Argent's was strong, he wanted to make sure Allison was alright. He had a test today though, and if he didn't pass he'd be in deep trouble. Groaning in exasperation, Scott slumped his shoulders before grumbling wordlessly as he entered school. Already trying to reach out for his girlfriend again, hoping against hope she'd be in classes.
"There's Scott," Isaac commented when the boy drove up. He didn't feel the urge to spend any time with him, or ask him questions about being a werewolf or generally what he realized now was forging a pack bond with him. It was odd, this spell Deaton had cast, it hadn't just affected Scott but everyone around him. He'd almost lost Derek, lost his Alpha, because of that damn spell. Scott was alright really, but he was not someone Isaac had cared about before he turned or directly after. He wasn't someone he'd wanted to be friends with, he felt as though he'd been forced into it and it rubbed him up the wrong way. Made him want to hate Scott, but the reality was, Scott wasn't to blame any more than Isaac was for what happened. Deaton was. "Do you think we should tell him about Deaton?"
"Wait, what?" Stiles asked, flailing, as he turned to face Isaac frowning at him, "What about Deaton?"
"Oh, you weren't there this morning, did you hear Jackson?" Isaac questioned his fellow Beta, he could feel the pack bonds he shared. Yes, they were new, yes they were not all that thick, but given time…they'd be better he was sure of it. The way Derek had spoken of pack bonds he knew this to be true.
"Some of it," Jackson informed them, waiting impatiently for Lydia and Danny to return from god knows where. Just because they were his pack, it didn't mean he wanted to spend all his free time with them – with Stiles and Isaac. He'd woken up this morning feeling the pack bonds, and he'd felt the urge to help his pack any way he could. Generally he didn't like it, but part of Jackson had wanted this so, he also did like it. He did not want to be a Kanima again or an Omega, he'd done his research, or more like Lydia had and shown him what happens via a project.
"Tell me," Stiles asked, "Everything!"
"Do you feel different?" Isaac asked Stiles, "I mean do you feel the pack bonds?" was it possible for someone magical to feel it? Nobody had said anything about Stiles being able to feel the pack bonds, but he guessed Derek, his Alpha, probably could.
Stiles was about to open his mouth out of sheer habit and state 'I'm human' so how could he feel pack bonds. His brow wrinkled, he didn't feel anything different, so he doubted he could feel anything. "No, nothing," Stiles shrugged and shook his head at the same time.
"Might change when you start using magic more often?!" Isaac suggested, wondering if Harry had even told Stiles what he was yet. "Do you know what you are yet?"
"I've to go after school, today," Stiles said, almost tripping over his own feet as he displayed his excitement on the matter. He couldn't wait to find out what he actually was so he could go on a research binge and find out everything. "So, Deaton, spill!" noticing that Scott completely bypassed them as if they weren't even there, "Yo! Scotty! Bro!" only to be ignored until he realised…no wolf-y hearing anymore.
Isaac told Stiles everything that had happened this morning, the discussion between their Alpha, Peter and Harry. Resolutely ignoring the interrupting the other teen was doing, continuing on as if he hadn't asked the questions he had. If he rolled his eyes any further back he'd be in danger of them becoming stuck. Oddly enough, it didn't irritate Isaac like it normally would have. Was it because he'd grown tolerant to it? or because Stiles had saved his life when he'd been battling yesterday? Or because he was pack? He had grown attached to Erica and Boyd rather quickly for someone who didn't normally trust anyone. Pack. Only for Deaton to take that away from him.
"Wait it wasn't Scott's fault!"
"Feral?!"
"So you don't even like Scott?"
"He said that?"
Were just a few of the statements by Stiles during their conversation. Isaac repeated everything nearly play-by-play as if Harry, Peter and Derek were the ones talking. Some of which Stiles had already been privy to, as Harry had revealed everything earlier yesterday. Although, he'd learned new information he hadn't been aware of, such as the fact his best friend would have gone feral. He had never trusted Deaton, not really, especially with how cryptic he was all the time. Yet he couldn't believe the scope of the extent Deaton had gone to.
"We're going to be late," was the first thing out of Lydia's mouth, as she approached them, her heels clicking along as she walked past them. Jackson just huffed out a little amused laugh, before he and Danny – who had come with her – followed. Isaac and Stiles followed behind them.
"Why? Why would he do that? It's almost as if he didn't want a Hale Alpha in Beacon Hills!" Stiles frowned, he was their Emissary, he should have helped Peter, should have helped Laura and Derek. An Emissary's job was never over, it was for life or unless something catastrophic happened and the entire pack passed on. He claimed he wasn't supposed to interfere, but it seemed like he had damn well interfered from the get go. Deaton had almost cost his brother – in all but blood – to go feral and die. What if he knew about the plot to assassinate the Hales? Mountain ash had to have been used as well as the accelerant that Harris had perpetrated. His breathing hitched, was it possible? A day ago he wouldn't have agreed, Deaton might be a cryptic asshole but he wasn't a murderer…his mind reeled, he needed to find out.
Deaton wasn't only a threat to the pack but also a threat to his best friend, he must have wanted Scott to be Alpha for a reason.
Peter had never been one for useless emotions such as nervousness, but he was extremely nervous right now. He loathed the fact he was, the reason behind it and the fact he honestly didn't know how this conversation was going to go. He was always confident, normally he had no reason to be worried about a damn thing. He hadn't even been nervous the first time he approached Harry, his mate, despite his…abnormality. Although the extent of Harry's abilities had left him reeling he'd never been afraid. He did like scaring everyone by playing up Harry's abilities, something that had come back to bite him in the ass with Talia.
Opening and closing his mouth, the apology burning a hole in his heart, but unable to articulate it. How did one apologise for the horrific things he'd said? You couldn't, not really, he'd used everything he knew about Harry and utterly destroyed him. It had destroyed him too, the bond between he and Harry…had always been strong and vibrant, when that had gone, he'd felt it so strongly that he thought he would be the first werewolf to have a heart attack. Oh, he'd tried to be pissed, especially by the fact Harry hadn't tried to fight for him, to get him back, but it had fallen flat. One of the last things he'd said to Talia was that she'd doomed the family, that Harry would have been able to save everyone. He'd gotten the last laugh, or would have if the situation was anywhere near approaching funny.
The sound of movement from Derek's bedroom, had Peter jerking his head up in that direction. It was the first time Cora had moved. A new slither of anxiety pressed upon him, Cora had always been his favourite niece, in fact he constantly spoke about her to Harry, her and Derek actually. Were the ones he spoke about frequently, like a 'gushing parents' Harry had said once, but he'd said it with a fond smile showing he didn't really mind.
Glancing at Harry, almost looking for direction, how did he tell Cora he had killed her sister without losing her in the process? "Go," was all Harry said, she deserved someone there for her when she wakes up. "We can talk when you actually have the words to say." Not that it had ever been a problem in the past.
Peter made his way up to Derek's bedroom immediately, at least if she remembered Derek's scent she'll know she's at the very least safe. They had no way of knowing just how long she'd been with the Alpha pack, they had a good idea how long Erica and Boyd had been there but Cora…no, they had no idea. Having pulled out his phone, he called Derek, but unfortunately it just rang out. Curtly informing the messaging service that she'd woken up, he ended the call as he slid into the room.
Cora was already sitting up in the bed, the entire house was like a hobo's nest or a drug addicts home. Mattress on the floor, bare room with hardly any necessities. Derek had more money than he could probably use, between everything in the vault, the money from the insurance company for eleven people and the money the rest of the family had save up in personal accounts. He had no idea if Laura had taken out life insurances on her and Derek after what happened, if she did, then he also had that in addition to everything else. Not that Derek would want to use it, immersed in guilt that he was, he would feel unworthy of the money.
"Uncle Peter!" Cora choked out, her impassive façade cracking completely, making her sound like a little girl than the grown woman she was.
Peter approached her and drew her into a hug, uncaring that she didn't return it, for a few moments. Then she was holding him just as tightly, Peter couldn't help but scent mark her, inhaling her scent as much as he could, knowing he probably wouldn't get within touching distance again when Cora finds out everything. Derek would word it in a way that would condemn him completely.
"You're alive!" Cora said, sounding utterly wrecked. She had thought she was the only one who had gotten out of there alive. The pack bonds…she'd lost everyone, or so she thought. "Is that…is that Harry?" noticing the guy at the door, he looked exactly as Peter had described him.
Peter glanced behind him to see that Harry had followed him up, there was surprise clearly written across his face. "Yes," he confirmed, he had described his mate to Cora, he was slightly surprised himself that she would remember that description enough to accurately deduce who Harry was.
"Did…did anyone else survive?" Cora asked, sounding almost desperate and angry at the same time.
"Three members of your pack survived the fire," Harry said, seeing that Peter was once again unable to articulate anything. It was weird seeing Peter that way, he always had something smarmy to say, he was never speechless. "Peter ended up in Beacon Hills Long Term care ward for six years, a lone Omega, utterly comatose,"
Cora's breathing hitched, "But nobody came,"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, unsure of what she meant.
"The pack…if anything happened we were told to go to the safe house, nobody else came," Cora explained, a steely tone to her voice.
"Ah," Harry made a noise of understanding, "The other two members of your pack took off immediately, Derek and Laura survived, Laura became the Alpha and abandoned Peter, and evidently you." As always giving it to them straight, if she had been younger Harry would have perhaps been a little more careful with his words.
"But the pack bonds…" they had been sisters, surely that would have been enough for the pack bonds to survive transference…did Laura know she survive or was the loss of all the other pack bonds too much?
"We cannot say whether Laura felt them or not, all we know was she grabbed Derek and left for New York." Harry continued, "Laura survived the next six years, until she was lured back to Beacon Hills, Peter's nurse had found out what Peter was and preyed on his weakness and Omega status to find out everything she could. She wanted the bite presumably, and found out where Laura was and ensured that she returned, when she knew Laura was here, she let Peter out and in his feral state he killed Laura and gained possession of the Hale Alpha spark."
Cora swallowed, unsure of what to think, on one hand her sister had abandoned her…on the other she was her sister. She'd thought her entire pack had died, she'd lasted as long as she could as a lone wolf before forcing herself to join another pack for safety. She'd never allowed herself to care, refusing to let herself to do so, terrified the same thing would happen all over again. Then rumours had reached her…of a Hale Alpha once again taking up residence in Beacon Hills, someone had survived the fire. She'd immediately left to hunt out the surviving member of her family. Only to be caught by the Alpha pack. Story of the curse that seemed to have its claws into the Hale pack apparently.
"The spark healed his mind enough that he felt awareness for the first time in a long, long time. It enabled him to enact revenge on what happened to his family. He hunted down everyone involved in the fire and killed them all. Or tried to but at this point he believed he had." Harry explained wryly, "Derek meanwhile pretended to become your Uncle's beta let him kill everyone involved before killing him for the Alpha power."
A snarl resounded the loft, as Derek burst into the loft, pissed off at Harry ironically enough if it had been anyone else they would have found themselves confronted by an angry Hale. Fortunately, Derek and his wolf, knew that he would never win a fight with Harry and didn't dare strike out at him. He'd seen what he was capable of, and it was a very wise decision.
"You deny it Derek? That you were planning on killing who you thought was your last remaining family for doing what you didn't have the guts to do?" Harry asked icily. "You let the hunters get away with killing your family instead of bringing attention to the case you ran away with your tail between your legs. Allowing the murderers of your family go unpunished. Even now six years later refusing to reveal that you knew Kate Argent was responsible for it, acting as though you didn't know. When someone actually has the guts to punish them you kill him after allowing him to be set on fire again."
Silence reigned at that, Derek remaining silent as guilt and shame wafted up their nose. "He was insane, he was going to kill a sixteen year old girl." Was the only comeback he had. "He wasn't going to stop killing, he was a danger to the supernatural."
Harry let out an incredulous bark of laughter, "Yes, a hunter in training, who eventually hurt every single member of your new pack and allowed the capture of two of them. One who will probably kill over dozens of werewolves in her lifetime maybe more if she goes down her auntie Katie's route." Positively cooing out the last three words. "You've lost all meaning of pack, of family, they should come first before strangers, before fucking humans who would see you dead before helping you."
"My mom always said just because we were predators doesn't make us monsters," Derek muttered quietly, as if he was living by that mantra since the fire. As if he was constantly struggling with himself in order to stop himself becoming someone like Peter.
"Do you know why that is?" Harry asked darkly, "Why your mother could freely say those words?"
Derek did not reply, stomach twisting unpleasantly.
"Because she allowed her left hand to get his hands dirty, to capture, to kill in order to keep the pack safe." Harry said vindictively. "All the while she negotiated treaties and did things peacefully, the only reason nobody made a move against your pack is because of Peter's reputation…until the managed to get an in on the pack itself. It's an alpha's job to keep the pack safe, to do the dirty work, to prove themselves worthy of the title Alpha. You have to stop trying to be like your mother or Laura, you need to be the Alpha your wolf wants you to be. Otherwise you aren't going to be able to keep your pack safe. You were running on instincts when you killed Ennis weren't you? Listening to your wolf more closely? Or was it sheer revenge for what he did to Paige? If so, ironic that you wished revenge for Paige but your family didn't deserve the same consideration,"
Derek could sense the truth in Harry's statements, it was either the truth or something Harry believed to be the truth. He wasn't sure which one he would like to be the truth if he was being entirely honest. "Bit of both," he finally confessed, this wasn't how he'd seen his reunion with Cora going. Although, if he was entirely honest, he hadn't seen how it could go for he no longer knew Cora, she wasn't the ten year old girl he'd last seen.
"I'm sorry," Derek croaked out, talking to Cora, apologising for the death of their pack, it was his fault.
"I was angry, for a long time, all I knew was that you were responsible, but as I got older, I begun to realize what she'd done to you. You were manipulated, Derek, but I'm more angry that you didn't get Argent arrested for what she did to our family…if it had become known…maybe there would be four Hales standing here with a good strong pack again." Not a broken remnants of one that were just blaming each other constantly drowning in their own guilt.
Derek flinched, ultimate confirmation that Kate Argent had told his family what he'd done as they burned.
"I think the three of you need to sort this out," Harry stated, "Excuse me," and with that Harry left the loft, before Peter could even protest or argue. Derek just needed a push, to become the Alpha that his pack needs, with him and Peter urging him on…well, he could only hope that it went well. Stiles would probably help him too. Stiles was more like him and Peter, cared more about those he loved than damn strangers. No doubt if Derek got his head out of his ass, with Stiles being his mate, remaining human – relatively he supposed – and the Emissary, someone to help tie them to their humanity, to give advice.
The hierarchy in the school, they realized was beginning to change again. Normally Jackson and Stiles couldn't get on, and Scott and Stiles were normally inseparable. Now, they were observing Jackson actually calmly talking to Stiles with Lydia at his side, Danny at the other, with Stiles usual flailing and Scott…Scott was sitting with a worried Allison – for Scott's sanity – and an excited Scott who was uncharacteristically babbling which was usually Stiles' thing. These days you never know what was going to happen any given day. With Erica, Boyd, Stiles, Scott and Jackson, Lydia and Danny now apparently.
"Would you cover for me if I left?" Stiles asked, knowing the answer already, practically vibrating with excitement.
"What do you think, Stilinski?" Jackson scoffed at the thought of doing him a favour for nothing. He wanted to be there when Stiles found of what he was. "I'll give you a lift to the loft though, only because I'm taking Lydia," making it seem as selfish as possible.
"You have Lacrosse practice," Stiles pointed out, Lydia did not.
"So do you, bench warming," Jackson said smarmy. "Must be hard work," Stiles wasn't actually bench warming anymore, but he liked to remind him where he had been before this whole supernatural stuff started. Hell even for a while afterwards.
"I scored the winning goal!" Stiles pointed out dramatically, Lydia showing Jackson public displays of affection rolling off his back. Seeing her bringing Jackson back with the power of 'love' had pretty much cemented the fact he'd never have a chance with her. Plus, she was no longer hiding how smart she was with Jackson so points to that. Then there was the fact he knew they were 'mates' that also had a great deal to do with it. Shovelling the chips into his mouth hungrily.
"That's only because I was…incapacitated," Jackson retorted right away, looking as though something foul was under his nose, still shocked that Stiles had managed to win it for them despite all that was happening.
"Yeah," Stiles said, he might not have been Jackson's fan, but he honestly couldn't imagine what it was like being controlled by both Matt and Gerard Argent. Nobody, not even Jackson deserved that because they were screwed up, he was even probably even more screwed up now. He might not show it often, but it was obvious he blamed himself for what happened. The look on Jackson's face yesterday he didn't think he'd ever forget that, no matter how much of a douche-canoe he was.
"He's a bloody idiot," Jackson scoffed, in an abrupt change of subject.
Danny, Lydia and Stiles all turned to stare at him.
"What's he saying?" Stiles asked, exasperatedly staring at his best friend.
"He's telling her everything that happened and she's not believing him," Jackson revealed, "He doesn't need to sound so happy about it." he grouched. He didn't get why Scott wanted to be human, ever since he learned of the supernatural he'd wanted to be a werewolf. Even with the danger that came with it, and it wasn't solely out of jealousy or spite because of McCall like everyone believed. He just wanted to belong.
"Scott never wanted the bite," Stiles understood that.
"I'm with Harry, he won't last twenty-four hours before he regrets it," Jackson declared, as terrifying as he found the werewolf, he sort of admired him too. He also believed him when he said he'd be able to change into both forms, and that made him more powerful and with an advantage no other werewolf has. Which meant he was more able to protect Lydia if the need arises.
"I think it's going to hit him during gym," Stiles said, his tone subdued and quiet. He didn't want that for his best friend, he wanted him to be happy. Unfortunately, Scott desperately wanted to be on the Lacrosse team, to be on the first line, to do well. The bite had allowed that, Scott's asthma was going to prevent him from remaining on the Lacrosse team let alone the first line. He wondered if there was something he could do to help Scott with his asthma.
Honestly, how did he know his own best friend better than he knew himself? The denial he'd been under all this time was beginning to become really annoying. That and the way he had been having for the near enough two years, that was…inexcusable the way he was being. He didn't want to give up on Scott though. He was going through a tough time.
Peter followed Harry's scent, thankfully able to do so as he had not just simply apparated. He stopped when he noticed where Harry had gone. The Hale house, which hadn't been his home for a long time, he'd had a flat in Beacon Hills before the fire, and of course, the rest of the time he'd lived with Harry in Texas. He was sat on the singed porch, his face impassive revealing nothing he was feeling. Six years had gone by, but Harry had hardly changed, perhaps a bit harder around the edges, but that was it really. Harder around the edges because of him.
Peter stared up at the house that held so many good memories for him but also a whole slew of bad ones. Especially in the years before the fire. His good intentions had spectacularly backfired. Bracing himself, he moved forward, coming out from between rounding the last few trees that obscured him from view. He had burnt here twice already, so excuse him for not relishing the prospect of being here for more than a few seconds.
"I would apologise…but if the situation was reversed…I do not believe an apology would be enough." Peter admitted, a look of pain upon his features. Hiding nothing from Harry, not seeing the point not when his emotions gave him away. Plus, Harry knew him well enough anyway, to know without the need of chemo-signals or the look on his face.
Harry scoffed derisively, "You've got that right," he added with distain, sounding much like he had when he first appeared at the loft. No matter how angry and disdainful he sounded, it didn't hide the underlying scent of pain and inadequacy.
"You know I didn't mean it," Peter retorted, "I was just trying to make the best of an impossible situation." He'd known he wouldn't do well as an Omega and his actions and reactions since wakening after the fire had just damn well convinced him of that.
"You chose one of the worst ways to do it," Harry retorted immediately, "I let you in Peter, and it wasn't because we were 'mates' but because you refused to leave me the bloody hell alone. Somewhere along the lines you became my goddamned anchor, I've lived with what you said for six years, six whole years," suddenly sounding years older, tired and defeated. Peter being Harry's anchor revealed a lot more than they could discuss actually talking or shouting. It was something so profound that silence reigned after his words. "Nothing is going to make it better, or take back what you said." Not all the time in the world would truly heal those wounds. Peter had ripped every single insecurity he had buried deep within himself and yanked them all out on display. He'd learned his lesson, he refused to ever allow anyone in again.
Peter heard what was left unsaid more than what was actually vocalized. He blamed himself for what happened, because he'd let him in. He hated himself for giving in when Peter refused to budge on knowing Harry. That he had struggled for six years after being deprived of his anchor. Six years was too long to fix their problems, he was…resigned, but Peter stiffened his spine, eyes flashing supernatural blue for a moment.
If Harry thought he was going to give in, then he had another thing coming. Nobody knew determination like he did, he didn't care if it took another six years to accomplish it. He wouldn't give up on Harry, or give in, Harry was his, just as he was Harry's.
Peter pressed himself against Harry, there was nothing suggestive or sexual about it. It was purely an animal comfort, and Harry accepted it, he didn't try to budge away. "Bad timing, otherwise I would have been back with you," Peter murmured quietly, his tone wistful and determined.
Neither spoke after that, just sat there in the silence, Peter trusting Harry to keep them both safe from any harm. Since Harry had the greater senses when it came to both of them, at least it used to be that way, with the power boost, it just might conceivably be that Peter was equal to Harry in some aspects now. Despite where they were, Peter had never felt more at home. By the Moon he wanted to apologise, to beg, to prostrate himself at Harry's feet until he was forgiven…but it was going to take time. A lot of time and effort before he gained forgiveness. That's only if he was lucky, Harry wasn't a forgiving person by nature, never had been not since he knew him.
Pressing his forehead into Harry's shoulder, a low sounding hurt coming from his vocal cords before he slumped against him. Grasping a hold of his hand, wrapping their hands together tightly. Inevitably he remained there, just happy to inhale the scent of forest, home and Harry. Three of his favourite things in the world. During their time there, his mind idled through possible ways in which he could earn Harry's forgiveness. Money held no matter to Harry, as well as material possessions.
He was smart, he would think of something. Then a conversation he'd had with Harry sparked in his memory, ironically enough, one of the last conversations he'd had with him. They'd gotten into quite a debate, so much so he had forgotten what he had intended to do that evening.
To say gym was a nightmare was putting it lightly, the coach was constantly yelling at Scott – and muttering obscenities under his breath – threatening Scott to 'man up' or get benched. Scott was constantly hunched over, ready to have an asthma attack. Stiles tried his best to help him, but Scott continued to angrily shrug him off, angry at the world and everyone in it.
It got progressively worse during Lacrosse practice, Allison had come to cheer on Scott, with Lydia coming to cheer on Jackson half the time. The rest of it she had stuck in a mythology book about Banshee's, but was finding hardly any relevant information contained within. Nothing about potential powers, what she could do and what her limitations were.
"He's taking this too far," Allison declared, worried despite herself. Observing the coach whistling and ordering them off the pitch with steam coming out of his ears.
"What?" Lydia asked, emerging from her book, slightly confused by Allison's non-sequitur.
"Scott," Allison sighed, sitting back down, "He's insisting he's not a werewolf anymore. He even asked me to cut his hand to 'prove it' I don't know what he's up to." Scott had always been in a certain amount of denial when it came to being a werewolf, but this was a new low. Oddly enough, she'd thought he was beginning to accept himself, taking more interest in the supernatural.
"That's because he's not," Lydia stated, the book closing with a thump, it was time to head to the loft, she wanted to read real books on her kind. These mythology books were just a waste of her time, she wondered if she could get away with staying out all night. Her mother didn't really care, too busy being depressed over her father leaving. Although her going missing had caused her to tighten the reigns a little.
"Wait, what are you talking about?" it took Alison moments to realize what Lydia had said, and she immediately begun looking for her. Her perfectly coifed strawberry blonde hair, giving her away as she made her way – quite quickly for her chosen shoes – into the school to wait for Jackson presumably. "Lydia! What did you mean he isn't?" she whispered urgently once she caught up with her friend, her best friend.
There were too many people milling around to use the 'w' word without raising a few eyebrows.
Lydia stared at Allison, a bad feeling consuming her, was this her Banshee powers warning her of something? Or was it just her own smarts telling her revealing everything would be wrong? Not that it would matter, Scott would tell her everything anyway. "He's not one anymore," was all Lydia said, shrugging her shoulders.
Allison stared struck speechless, heart pounding, if this was true she would need to inform her father at once. This was something new, something they didn't know about. Scott did lie frequently, but Lydia would have no reason to go along with Scott's plans or insanity. In fact, she would be the first person to tell her if anything was going on. The urge to leave now was strong, but she needed information. She had to wait on Scott.
"This isn't a joke, right?" Allison just had to be sure.
Lydia just sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes, refraining from replying to such a stupid question.
"Lydia!" Allison protested at the silence, wincing at the scorn filled look she received in return.
"Ready to go?" Lydia asked Jackson as he emerged from the boys locker room, greatly relieved and extremely happy. "Then lets go!" she said in her usual clipped manner. "Where is Stiles?"
"Still getting changed," Jackson explained derisively, after helping Scott for five minutes, bloody idiot honestly, Scott wanted it so he should be left alone to deal with it in his opinion.
"Stiles, we're leaving!" Lydia called into the changing room, ignoring the squeak of protest that came from both Stiles and Scott.
"Crap!" Stiles muttered, desperately wrestling with his clothes in order to get them on quickly. Lydia didn't make idle threats, and he wasn't waiting nearly an hour to get to the Loft. He'd need to actually walk home – or worse get the bus – then get his jeep then go to the loft. The sound of her heels clicking away was like the judges hammer striking down. "I'll text you, remember to get your asthma medication renewed!" Stiles told his best friend, as he shuffled out of the room, continuing to dress all the while one handed with his bag and lacrosse gear in his other hand.
He fell over, three times, much to his friends amusement judging by their laughter. They waited though, that was the main thing.
He would soon know what he was.
Harry and Peter remained outside the Hale house for hours, only moving when Harry's cell begun ringing. Peter moved just slightly, allowing Harry to fish it out. Peter watched Harry stand up, moving just slightly away from him. "What do you have for me?"
"I found Gerard Argent, whatever he is, he's not a werewolf," came the voice of a slightly younger gentlemen sounding grim and quite frankly disgusted by whatever was bothering him.
"Oh?" Harry asked surprised, a frown marring his features, "Then what is your best guess as to what he is?"
"Nothing, yet," the guy said seriously, "He's a miracle case, he had cancer, but each day he's spewing out black goo out of every one of his orifices. Each time he does, the cancer disappears and he gets slightly stronger, whatever he took seems to be actually working."
"Where is he?" Harry growled out, eyes flashing purple in anger.
"Christopher Argent had him stashed in an old folks home, two miles from where you are," the amusement was obvious.
"Raymond," Harry scowled, not in the mood for amusement.
"Oh, come on, it is funny, in a depressing sort of way," he continued, sobering in the face of Harry's disapproval. "I'll take pictures of the records and send them to you. Oh, would you look at that, on a scale of one to ten how bad is the pain he's always putting ten, such a shame." Sarcasm oozing from his voice, as he shifted paperwork to look at it presumably.
"Remain there until tonight, as soon as I have him I'll transfer the funds to your account," Harry ordered, "Keep a watch and tell me if anyone comes near him."
"Will do, I'll send you the documents once I'm done, about five to ten minutes," his folder was quite large after all.
"Thank you Raymond," Harry said sincerely.
"You're welcome," Raymond said, "Be careful," he added, as he always did, before the call ended without further conversation.
"Why not use magic?" Peter queried, it wouldn't be the first time he'd used magic to track down his latest target.
"It doesn't work with shifters," Harry replied, sliding his phone back into his pocket, a pensive look on his face. It didn't work on creatures full stop, only witches and other magic users, magic calling on magic. It was why it was dangerous to use your true name. Something he would need to make clear to Stiles, first and foremost. Thankfully though, he didn't use his first name, unless his father did actually call him Stiles Stilinski which Harry doubted…but it wasn't the worst name he'd ever heard in the world. "I assumed he would be one by now,"
"Evidently not," Peter stated, eyes gleaming darkly, his icy blue eyes flashing, with just a hint of purple around the edges.
"You should check out your eyes in the mirror," Harry pointed out, cocking his head to the side, reminiscent of a curious dog. "There is a hint of purple in them." which was curious, but nothing dangerous. It might just have something to do with the magic he'd used to protect Peter from his own stupidity. "We need to get back, the others will be there, no doubt Stiles is going to want to know what he is." He had to admit he was rather looking forward to it as well.
Peter blinked but nodded, and wasn't the least bit surprised when they were apparated back to the loft. He immediately made a beeline for the bathroom, curious to know what had changed with his eyes. He ignored everyone who glanced at him curiously, walking swiftly with an air of mystery around him. They still somehow missed the fact Peter kept his gaze constantly moving around the exits of the property as if he honestly feared he'd forget they were there.
"Stand here, and be as still as possible." Peter heard Harry say, as he flashed his eyes in the mirror, and found that Harry was quite correct, the outer eye was more purple than blue. Would it continue or was that just how his eyes were going to be from now on?
Could it be the magic he used? Was Stiles closer to the truth with his earlier comment of it being 'magic' the reason Harry had purple eyes? Not only had he used magic, he'd had magic used on him on a molecule level, to completely repair everything that had been wrong with him due to his chosen manner of return. When Stiles used magic would his eye colour be purple? Or something else entirely?
Hearing the quiet murmur of Latin he turned and left the bathroom, making his way back downstairs, sitting at the bottom. Watching Harry perform magic, it had always been a curious sight, he'd never gotten used to it. His unique way of using it always turned him on like nothing else could. He did however, roll his eyes at the grimaces Jackson and Isaac wore, they'd get used to it. Derek knew better than that, having grown up in a werewolf household, well, it wasn't proper to react to someone's scent after all.
They were new they'd learn or he would make sure they did.
"How long will it take now?" Stiles asked, having remained as still as possible, which is to say hardly at all. The boy couldn't be still if his life depended on it.
"You are a sorcerer mage," Harry said eventually, sounding amused by Stiles impatience and not annoyed. "Once you've levelled up to the highest you'll be the sorcerer mage supreme, but it takes decades to accomplish it, but I have a feeling you'll surpass all my expectations."
"If I used magic would I exhaust myself or could I draw power from somewhere? Like objects that are imbued with power like Dr. Strange? How long can I cast spells? Is there a limit? Will I be able to perform rituals? What kind of magic could I do? Will they help?" Stiles asked in a single breath, only having to pause to take a breath. "Is there a way to tell ones' level? Do I need to go to a mage to find out? Or can I practice myself…"
"Stiles…" Harry said, as the questions continued, but Stiles bulldozed through his word.
"Stiles!" Harry said a little louder but Stiles continued on.
"Silencio!"
"Oh, not that is much better, do me a favour and keep it on him?" Jackson said, grateful for the reprieve as Isaac laughed and Lydia pursed her lips in amusement. "It's a good look on you, Stiles," was all she had to say.
Even Derek had to look away to stop anyone seeing the amusement clear on his face at the indignant look on Stiles face, as his words spewed forth without a word heard.
"Everything you need will be in the books," Harry stated firmly, "All the questions you've asked, will be answered, but the books remain here, is that understood?" he was not going to risk mundane humans getting their hands on his priceless books. "You will be careful with them, any rip, tear or worse pencil in the margin and I will tear you a new one." With that he removed the spell.
"You have the book I need already? Here?" nobody was surprised the first thing out of Stiles mouth was another question.
What were your expectations whereupon reading this story? Did you expect it to be mostly about Harry/Peter? If so I assume you wouldn't mind if it was primarily about them with Stiles and Derek and the pack coming secondary to it? As Peter and Harry hunt down Kate and Deal with the Alpha pack…along with training Stiles and Lydia? What will happen to Deaton? I've not done anything to him yet in A Life Worth Living Either so yeah, I think I'm going to have him dealt with sooner…the question is will Harry find anything before Stiles or will Stiles get to the bottom of it alarmingly fast? Will Deaton have been in an area where another pack had lost its life? Will he be a hunter/druid? Or just someone maintaining the balance along with his sister? Harry's already promised to kill her anyway :P what's one more? Or would you rather see Harry and Peter part of the Hale pack but coming and going a lot as left-hands/hunting down anyone a threat to the pack? Building up quite a reputation? Will Derek become a force to be reckoned with, I know Harry's going hard on him, but after all he's been through…Derek's actions and reactions strike him as immature, he wants the boy to grow up and take his share of the blame and move on. Will Derek beg Harry remove the memories or will Harry have to do that himself? or will Peter request that Harry do it seeing as Derek isn't sleeping well with his memories? Will it succeed in pushing Derek and Peter closer or will the opposite happen and they only get on from a distance? Will Stiles be the Emissary and left-hand (for local threats) against the pack the likes of Deaton and that…and other potential hunters! Will Gerard's death be bloody and gory or swift with a killing curse? What will Chris do with the information that there is a way to take the werewolf out of a human and return their humanity? Will he kidnap Harry in order to try and torture the information out of him? Proving he's no better than the rest of the Argents? Or will be try to coerce, threaten and ultimately beg for the information? R&R please!