Peter was burning. There were flames everywhere. They were eating him alive, melting his clothes, and burning his flesh. Peter screamed but the fire burned it's way down to his lungs, burning him from the inside out.
Around him, the fire roared and the house cracked but there was another sound. Distant at first but it grew louder by the second. It reminded him of big waves, a tsunami maybe, anything that would wash away the flames. But deep down Peter knew that he was trapped here. He was burning and nothing could change that. Stiles had promised to make it stop but that had been wishful thinking. Just like the water to put out the fire.
There was only fire and agony.
But the deep grumbling grew louder.
The wave hit the house. It rolled down the hallway, rolled over the flames, rolled over Peter. It knocked the hot air out of Peter's lungs but there was no air to suck back in. The water closed over his head, taking him with it.
Peter fought. He didn't know which way was up but he wasn't thinking anyway. His lungs were screaming for air but there was only water. Peter felt his scorched flesh rip when he tried to kick his way up to the surface but the pain didn't really register. His body shifted but his claws just hit the water and his fangs found nothing to hold on to. He kicked and thrashed but he was fighting a losing battle. There was only dark water around him and he was seconds from opening his mouth.
"Peter." There were hands on him, dragging him down. On instinct, he fought them, tried to get away from them, but he couldn't shake them off.
His butt hit something solid and in a clear moment, Peter recognized it as the bottom. He tried to push upward but the hands held him back.
"Peter." The voice was in his head. "Let go."
Peter struggled against the hold, eyes turned upward where the surface had to be but there was only darkness surrounding him.
"It's okay," the voice said. "You can let go now."
Peter kept fighting but he was getting weaker. His lungs were close to exploding but he held on for just a moment longer.
In the end, he did open his mouth and let the water in.
The water consumed him and everything faded away. The pain was gone. Peter let go and fell into nothingness.
"Peter?" Somebody was calling his name but Peter didn't want to wake up, not yet. Here nothing hurt, nothing mattered, but out there waited the pain, the fire. He didn't want to go back into the fire, he didn't want to burn any longer.
"Peter." The voice was persistent, dragging him back to consciousness. It was a different voice than before but it took him a moment to connect it to Stiles.
Peter blinked open his eyes. He expected to find himself in Stiles' cabin but it didn't feel like he was lying in the heap of blankets Stiles called a bed and he was not looking up at the familiar ceiling.
He was not in the cabin. Or in any other building.
He found himself floating in the water. Underwater.
"Stop that!" Stiles yelled and yanked him back when he tried to make his way to the surface. "You can't go up there. Not yet. You're still too hurt."
Peter tried to struggle free. Hadn't he been here before? But Stiles was holding him back with ease.
"Would you stop already?" Stiles sounded frustrated but he was still holding him back. Peter kicked again, he needed to get up to the surface, unlike Stiles he needed air, but then he went limp. He was floating at the bottom of the lake but even if his brain was screaming for him to get his ass up to the surface or he would drown, he didn't feel the need to breathe.
Something was very wrong here.
"What happened?" Peter asked and to his surprise, the words came out clear and not like he was talking underwater. He was pretty sure that he'd just taken a breath. He kind of needed that to get out the words but it didn't feel like he needed it for other things. Like staying alive.
Once Stiles was sure that Peter wasn't trying to get away any longer, he let go of him and Peter sank down next to him. It was dark down here but he could still make out Stiles' shape. However, it looked blurred around the edges. As if he was dissolving in the water.
"What do you remember?" Stiles asked. Looked like they were having this conversation at the bottom of the lake. Peter wondered where Derek was but at the moment he was glad that the Nöck wasn't around. He had his suspicions about the situation and he was not sure if he was ready to face Derek.
"We were under attack," Peter recalled. Things were a bit fuzzy but he remembered something crashing through the window. And Emily.
"Is Emily okay?" He asked, dreading the answer. He thought that he'd tried to get her out through the house but smoke and fire had blocked the way. Flames and pain, those he remembered clearly. And then he'd woken up at the bottom of the lake. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.
"She's fine," Stiles assured him. "You shielded her from the grenade and got her out into the hallway. From there Derek and I took over. We took the expressway to the lake. Had to give her mouth to mouth but she's better now. Already out of the hospital." The proud grin was audible in Stiles' voice.
"And in the meantime Derek took me," Peter concluded. It made sense. Stiles had been busy with Emily and Peter was more than grateful for him to choose the child over him but that meant that Stiles hadn't been able to get Peter out of the water quickly enough. "Guess I'm lucky he didn't just drown me."
"He didn't, not then," Stiles said. "It was a close call, he was about to drown you but I managed to wangle you out of his arms."
"How did I end up here, then?" Peter wondered. He had a look around but the scenery hadn't changed, he was still sitting with Stiles at the bottom of the lake. And he was not drowning, in fact, he was breathing just fine. So if this wasn't the most lucid dream ever, Peter was pretty sure that Derek had taken him. That he was like Stiles now. Whatever that meant.
"The hunters." Stiles let out a sigh. "They sealed the house with mountain ash and then they set it on fire with grenades. There was wolfsbane napalm in those things. You got a faceful of that. Literally, half your face melted right off your skull. The wolfsbane burned its way down to your bones. Your healing abilities kept you alive but it was not enough to heal you. They had to put you in a coma." Stiles paused with a shaky breath. Peter moved closer and put an arm around his shoulders. Kind of. Stiles didn't feel quite solid and neither did his arm. Weird but Peter put that observation away for later.
"You were suffering and you weren't getting any better," Stiles continued. "Talia said that at that rate it would take years for you to heal. Or your body would just give up."
Peter didn't know what to say. He couldn't even imagine …
"So you asked Derek for help?" Peter guessed. If it had been Stiles in that situation he would have done anything to help him.
"He offered," Stiles corrected. "It was his idea. But I couldn't decide this for you. Nobody asked me and I couldn't do that to you." He shook his head as if that helped to get rid of the bad memories. "Talia did this freakish mind-melt thing so I could ask you."
That triggered a memory.
"You were there." It hadn't been a dream.
Stiles nodded. "I asked you and you said yes but I doubt it counts, you were in agony and I'm not even sure if you understood what I was asking."
"You did the right thing," Peter assured him and hugged him closer. Everything was better than the fire.
They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.
Peter was trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had basically died and belonged to Derek now. Somehow. Stiles had never gone into detail when it came to his relationship with Derek.
"Will I see my pack again?" Peter broke the silence. Was it even his pack any longer? Was Talia still his alpha?
"Of course." Stiles shot upright, throwing off Peter's arm. "Talia is waiting to hear from you. Peter, you're not a prisoner. You can see your family, you can do whatever you want."
"But I can't stay for long." Peter nodded grimly.
"It's not that bad." Stiles settled back and sank into his side. He actually did sink into his side. As if they both were semi-liquid. It was a weird feeling but at the same time, it was comforting.
However, even in this half-liquid state Peter could tell that his body wasn't healed up yet. The left side of his face still felt wrong, tight and rigid, and when he ran a hand over it, it wasn't smooth. His fingertips bumped over ridges and strands of scar tissue. His left arm and the side of his chest didn't feel any better.
He wanted to leave the lake, he wanted to see Talia and the rest of his pack to make sure that they were fine, but when Stiles told him that he needed to stay down here for a little while longer, he believed him. And if he was honest, it was nice here. He could almost forget that there was a surface.
Stiles brought him up to date with what had happened while he'd been unconscious. The whole house had burned down but thanks to Stiles everybody had made it out alive.
"Your library is gone, though," Stiles admitted.
Peter wanted to say something about that, there had been quite some rare books in his collection and it was a shame that they were all gone, but they were interrupted by a presence approaching them.
"That's Derek." Stiles had noticed it too. "He let me go first to break it to you but I think he wants to meet you properly now. See you later."
With that Stiles pushed away and before Peter could react, he was gone. Where to he had no clue. Stiles hadn't just swum away, he'd kind of just vanished. Or rather dissolved, if that made sense.
However, before Peter could figure out what Stiles had just done the presence closed in on him. For a second it was all around him but then it came together and Derek was floating in the water in front of him.
"Peter," he said.
"Derek," Peter greeted him the same way, keeping a wary eye on him. He'd met Derek a few times and he had gotten to know him but on a completely different level. They had been equals then, now Peter belonged to Derek. He had no idea what to do with that information.
"What do you want from me?" Peter asked when Derek just looked at him.
"You're not fully healed yet," Derek observed and Peter fought the urge to cover his scarred face with his hand.
"Stiles says that I have to stay under for a little while longer for that," Peter said to test the waters, so to speak. Would Derek object to him leaving the lake?
"I'm not your enemy," Derek said and came closer.
Peter floated backward to keep the distance. It was scary how quickly he'd gotten comfortable with being underwater.
"What do you want from me?" Peter repeated. He had read quite a lot about water creatures in general and Nöcks in particular lately. He'd read about these creatures keeping people as servants but nowhere the books mentioned what kind of services were expected. Stiles hadn't been helpful there either.
"I won't hurt you," Derek assured him but didn't try to come closer again. "You have to stay here with me but aside from that, you're free to do whatever you want. Just like Stiles."
"I want to see my pack." Peter challenged him and let electric blue bleed into his eyes.
"I won't stop you if you want to go now," Derek said, unimpressed. "But you would be in pain, you should wait a little while longer."
Peter was about to go anyway. He wanted to see Talia, he wanted to see for himself if he was truly allowed to leave the lake but then Derek's form dissolved and suddenly his presence was all around Peter. His first instinct was to fight it but it had something soothing. Only when the pain was gone, Peter realized how much his body had still been aching. Peter's resistance melted away and he let himself sink into Derek.
