Peter couldn't breathe. Water was filling his nose and mouth and he only managed to bubble out the air in his lungs but there was only water coming back in.
He felt his claws digging into Derek's arm but it was like clawing at a brick wall, the creature didn't budge and kept him pinned against the wall with ease. Peter snapped at the hand over his face but his fangs just bit into water.
Derek said something about taking what he'd been promised but the words rushed over Peter without meaning.
He was dying, he knew that. He kept fighting but he already felt his struggling becoming weaker and dark spots started to cloud his vision. His lungs were screaming and he knew that he was only seconds ago from inhaling the water filling his mouth and nose.
Over the hand on his face Peter looked at the creature looming over him. It was just a blurry face but maybe his eyes were underwater as well, he couldn't tell.
Then, suddenly, Derek let go of him. Like a rag doll, Peter went down, coughing and spitting but he managed to suck some air into his burning lungs.
"Stay on your side of the town." Derek was standing over him but Peter didn't have the energy to look up at him. On all fours, he was gasping for air, the heavy boots just in his peripheral vision. He braced himself for getting kicked, just for good measure, but for a long moment, the boots didn't move at all. When they did move, it was away from him.
Seconds later the shower started to drip again, a sound almost lost in the dripping coming from Peter, he was still coughing up water, but then he was alone in the bathroom. Not trusting the peace Peter stayed like he was for another long moment, straining his ears for any unusual sound but there was only the slow dripping of the shower.
Nobody came running for him either, the house stayed quiet. Nobody had noticed the attack, nobody knew that Peter had almost died right in the middle of his pack. This was his den. His alpha was sleeping just a few feet away and he had a dozen pack members in shouting distance and still, this creature had managed to sneak in and almost kill him.
Peter spit out the last bit of lake water, because that was what it was, it tasted muddy and for sure was not the clear water from the pipes, and dared to slump against the wall. He was sitting in a puddle but he didn't care about his pants getting soaked.
Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It tickled in the back of his throat and made him cough but he could breathe again.
After long minutes, Peter got up. He shut off the shower and then he cleaned the floor as quietly as possible.
When he finally went to bed that night, he couldn't sleep.
That he had gotten attacked and had almost died was one thing. He could deal with that. It hadn't been the first time and for sure it wouldn't be the last.
What really shook him down to his core was where it had happened. In this house, surrounded by pack and his alpha, he should be safe. This was not the place where he should get attacked. If he died in this house, it should be of old age peacefully in his bed. He doubted that that would be the way to go for him but he was pretty sure that he wouldn't die in this house. At least he had thought so an hour ago.
On a more rational level he had to give the creature kudos. If Derek had attacked him anywhere else, it wouldn't have been this effective.
Peter didn't sleep all night but in the morning he plastered a smile on his face and joined his pack for breakfast as usual. Talia threw him a glance, she might have noticed the bags under his eyes or she did feel something along the pack bonds, but she didn't say anything.
After breakfast people piled out to go to school or work which left Peter with Pamela and Walter again. It was a rainy day so Pamela didn't go out to work in the garden instead she got out the cleaning supplies. Walter and Peter shared a glance and came to the silent agreement that they had something important to do somewhere else.
Peter had no idea what he wanted to do with the day, he was just tired but his mind didn't let him rest, so when Walter asked him to help him with some heavy lifting in the shed, he wanted to sort out some stuff, Peter agreed easily.
Peter didn't tell anybody about the creature invading their home, there was no point in scaring them when Derek had clearly been after him specificly, and in the evening he had composed himself.
The night was quiet again, the smell of rain heavy in the air and there was no hint of a threat palpable. Before Peter turned in that night, he tested every faucet in the house to make sure it was closed properly and not dripping ever so slightly, though. He doubted that that would be enough to keep Derek out if he wanted to come in but he felt better that way.
He had been bone-tired all day but once he was lying in his bed, sleep wouldn't come.
He could almost taste the water in the back of his throat but what really bothered him was what Derek had said to him while he had been drowning him. That he had been promised something. And that he might take Peter instead.
Peter didn't know what to make out of those words. It did sound as if somebody, most likely the alpha of the Hale pack at that time, had promised Derek some kind of human sacrifice. It fit in with what he knew about water creatures. The ones on top of his list were known to take bribes and they could keep somebody they had drowned as some kind of servant.
However, his working theory was that that was Stiles. That his pack had sacrificed him to the lake creature.
It was way after midnight when Peter finally drifted off to sleep. He woke up in the morning feeling even less rested than before and with half-remembered dreams still clogging his mind. He had dreamed about Derek drowning him and he kind of remembered Stiles watching from the distance.
Peter didn't go back out to the lake again but on Friday he dropped off Emily for her guitar lesson as usual and then he drove to the library.
"Peter Hale!" Denise greeted him in a slightly louder voice than what was appropriate for a library and he knew that he was in trouble.
"Yes?" He had been scanning the room for one particular person, not that he expected Stiles to be here, not after his encounter with Derek but he was looking for Stiles nevertheless. But now Peter turned his attention to Denise who gave him a disapproving look over her glasses.
"I told you to stay out of Cora's business," she told him in a more acceptable volume but still with that scolding mom tone.
"Pardon me?" Peter had no idea what she was talking about but it became clear a second later when she told him in detail how flustered Stiles had been when she had mentioned Peter to him. "Let the love birds be and shove your shovel speech."
Taken aback Peter just looked at her, he was pretty sure that she'd just told him to stick it where the sun don't shine and that made it the bluntest words he'd ever heard from her. She was surrounded by kids all day, she was so used to watching her language that he'd never heard her saying something even remotely obscene.
"You should apologize for scaring that boy," she told him. "He's here, you can do it right now."
"Yes, ma'am." Peter couldn't help the amused smile tugging at his lips when she shoved him into a direction.
He did find Stiles at the history novels.
"Didn't expect you to come," Peter greeted him but he should have stomped his feet to announce his presence because Stiles jumped at his words and promptly dropped a book on his foot. Again.
They left the library not much later, Stiles needed coffee for the upcoming conversation, but Peter got the feeling that he wanted to tell him. Not because Stiles needed to tell his story to someone, even if it was a difficult topic for him and Peter could tell that he was steeling himself for that on their way over to the coffee shop next door, but because he wanted to use it as a weapon.
Peter didn't know what to expect but for sure it wouldn't shine a good light on his pack, that much was clear.
They entered the coffee shop and Stiles made a beeline for the counter without even looking at the menu. The barista greeted him with a smile and asked if he wanted his usual so Stiles was a common sight here as well. Stiles agreed to his usual but ordered two extra shots of espresso in it.
"This conversation is asking for extra caffeine." He justified his order while the barista was making his drink. A monstrosity of caffeine and sugar.
"I didn't say anything," Peter said and ordered a black coffee for himself.
When they had their drinks, Peter followed Stiles to a table. They passed several free ones, they had missed the big afternoon rush, and headed for the table farthest away from everybody else.
When they sat down, Stiles immediately attacked his drink. He had to hollow his cheeks to suck the thick liquid through the straw and Peter had to avert his eyes to not stare at his lips wrapped around the plastic.
Stiles might look like a teenager but according to him, he had been eighteen when whatever had happened to him which most likely had been decades ago. At least. Peter was pretty sure that Stiles was older than him.
However, this was neither the time nor the place to drool over the way Stiles was molesting the straw.
Taking a sip from his own cup, Peter waited him out.
"Derek was here first," Stiles finally started to speak. He kept his eyes on his drink, his fingers playing with the straw. "I don't know if he came here with German settlers or if he hitched a ride with the Vikings, you do know that they have been on this side of the pond way before Columbus, right?" He threw him a glance to which Peter gave him a confirming nod. "He doesn't talk about how he got here but point is, he's been living in this lake long before Beacon Hills was founded. For sure long before your pack came into the area."
"Figured that much."
"Point is, this has been Derek's territory way before your people showed up." Stiles pointed the straw at him but then had to chase the whipped cream dripping off it with his tongue.
"Your pack came here with other settlers and Beacon Hills was founded," Stiles continued. "At first everything was fine, Derek never cared much about what was going on outside his lake and your pack was small, just settling in at that point."
"But we grew bigger," Peter guessed.
Stiles nodded to that. "And people were drawn to the lake. Some drowned which got Derek the attention of the pack. The alpha, a Johnathan Hale, went to the lake to talk to Derek and they came to an agreement."
"They divided the territory?" It made sense. One side of the town for the pack, the other with the lake for Derek.
"Yep." Stiles licked his lips. "Derek allowed them to stay and Johnathan promised to keep people away from the lake. He even made sure that the land legally belonged to Derek."
"The Beacon Hills Lake Company." That one had been bothering him for a while now.
"You've been busy."
So far it all made sense but it still didn't explain Stiles' role in this. Across from him, Stiles was swirling the straw in his half-empty cup. It was clear that they were coming to his role in this now.
"Johnathan promised something else, didn't he?" Peter prompted, Derek's words loud and clear in his head.
"It's part of Derek's nature," Stiles justified whatever he was about to say. "He can't help it, there are rules he has to follow even if he doesn't like them."
Peter had a pretty good idea what they were talking about here but he waited for Stiles to tell it in his own words.
"He asked for a pack member," Stiles finally said. "To seal the deal Johnathan had to give him one of his pack."
"You're pack," Peter realized but he snapped his mouth shut when Stiles slammed his fist on the table.
"No!" Stiles yelled. "I am not pack! I never was pack. I'm the guy who has lost his family on the track, who was new around here, who nobody would miss." Stiles locked eyes with him, his face distorted in disgust. "I'm the one Johnathan Hale grabbed off the street and threw into the lake instead of one of his precious pack members."
