Parrish wanted to take Stiles' statement right now, he was burning with questions, but it was past midnight and everybody aside from Parrish agreed that the middle of the night was not the time for that.
"Go home and get some rest," John told Parrish which Stiles used to tell him the same. In the end, Nancy shooed them all out of the station.
John dropped Stiles off at the lake and he promised to get some sleep before he picked him up in the morning to visit Peter.
With nothing else to do, Stiles went under as well. His body still needed time to recover and this way the night wouldn't seem endless. Quite the opposite, down here he had to be careful to not miss John in the morning.
"Did you see Peter?" Derek welcomed him with open arms.
"No." Stiles let go with a sigh. "John is taking me to the hospital in the morning to see him."
"Why does he need a hospital?"
"He's in a coma." Stiles told him what little he knew, about the wolfsbane poisoning and the severe damage and that Peter's healing abilities were barely doing more than keeping him alive. Stiles would see for real in the morning and a part of him hoped to find Peter up and about by then.
"Did John find the ones who did it?" Derek asked when Stiles had finished his report.
"Everybody is looking for Kate and Parrish went to ask her brother about her but he's not cooperating." Stiles shook his head. "No sign of the other hunters either."
Derek was quiet for a long moment and Stiles started to give in to the lull of the slow back and forth of the water around him.
"Do you want me to go after them?" Derek asked quietly.
"You would do that?" Suddenly wide awake Stiles tried to read Derek. He'd never wanted to kill anybody. Every time he had drowned somebody Stiles had witnessed how withdrawn he became, how haunted. It had taken ages until Stiles had figured out why Derek retreated from him after such an incident and had started to offer comfort. It had helped. What made a difference was John who actually had the power to keep people away from the lake.
And here Derek was, offering to kill those hunters for Stiles.
"Yes," Derek answered and Stiles knew that he would do it right now if Stiles gave him the okay.
"Let's keep that as a last resort." Stiles held him back. "John is still investigating. Give him a chance to do his job."
"Okay." Derek accepted his decision easily and Stiles snuggled back into his presence.
"But if Peter dies, I will go after them," Derek added with grim determination that didn't leave room to argue.
"Didn't know you like him that much." Stiles hadn't seen this side of Derek before. He wanted to kill the ones who had hurt Peter.
"You like him that much." Derek wrapped himself more firmly around Stiles.
Stiles didn't know what to say to that so he just mumbled a thank you and let himself drift in Derek.
In the morning Stiles was pacing his cabin until it was time to meet John at the road. Without a phone he was completely out of the loop, Stiles didn't know if Peter was even alive.
"Last I heard, his condition hasn't changed," John tried to reassure him when Stiles bombarded him with questions the second he got in the car. Not that John was likely to know more, he hadn't been in the station yet. Stiles just hoped that he had slept a few hours.
To pacify him, John had brought coffee and donuts.
"I'm not even in the mood to joke about police officers and donuts," Stiles said around half a donut stuffed into his mouth. He washed it down with a healthy gulp of coffee.
"You okay?" John glanced at him.
"I'm better than Peter," Stiles said darkly. "I just hope that not half the pack is there as well." He probably couldn't avoid Talia but he was not ready to deal with the whole pack.
He had saved their lives, he couldn't deny it and he would do it again in a heart-beat, but he feared how they would treat him now because of that. He wasn't a hero. And for sure he didn't want to be their hero. He'd hated the Hales for way too long to just become friends with them. He could be civil, that wasn't the problem, and for Peter's sake he was willing to get to know them but he dreaded what was waiting for him at the hospital.
"I should have asked Derek to whisk me there in the middle of the night," Stiles mused when John parked the car.
"Too late." John patted his shoulder. "C'mon. They won't bite your head off. And you want to see Peter."
"Yeah." Stiles squared his shoulders. "That bastard is better alive in there."
John had been here before so Stiles just followed him to the right station.
Talia must have heard them because when they rounded a corner and reached the waiting area, she was standing and already facing their direction. That alone rubbed Stiles the wrong way but he gritted his teeth and put on a friendly face.
"John," she greeted the sheriff while Stiles stayed back.
"How is he?" John asked.
"The same."
"Stiles." Talia motioned for him to come closer. "I didn't get the chance to thank you the other day." She shook her head. "I didn't even think about thanking you, there was so much happening. Peter and Emily …"
"How's Emily by the way?" Stiles cut in before she could start her thank you speech.
She blinked at him but didn't insist on her speech.
"She's still here but they have transferred her to a normal room. They say that she's fine but they want to keep an eye on her at least until tomorrow. Just to make sure." She covered her mouth with her hand, a distant look on her face. Stiles remembered way too vividly how still the little girl had been. "You can visit her if you want. She wants to see you."
"I would like that." Stiles dared to relax. Today she wasn't the scary alpha. Her eyes were rimmed red and her cheeks hollow, Stiles wondered when she'd last slept and if she'd eaten recently. There was nobody else from the pack in sight but Stiles didn't know if that was for his benefit or if they had other things to do. With the whole house gone there were a lot of things to do, he guessed. But at least with a pack this big, the alpha didn't have to do everything herself.
"But first I would like to see Peter," Stiles said. "If that's okay?"
"Of course." Talia tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "This way. They won't let anybody in, though."
Her hand was twitching as if she desperately wanted to touch Peter. Stiles didn't know much about the dynamics in a pack but he knew that werewolves were tactile creatures. They needed the closeness of the pack, they needed to touch each other. He didn't want to imagine how Talia must be feeling. One of her pack, her brother, was hurt, maybe dying, and she couldn't even sit at his side. The only thing she could do was to watch him through a window.
Which was not that spectacular, Stiles found out.
Lots of white in a small room. Peter was on a vent and his whole body was covered with some white stuff that almost looked as if it was floating over him. Half his face was covered as well so Stiles couldn't see the extent of the damage but the glimpses he got through the floating stuff were enough to twist his stomach.
"You can come by whenever you want," Talia assured him. "I think he would like that."
Stiles gritted his teeth at that statement but didn't say what was on his mind.
Because Talia didn't know shit about what Peter would like or not like. He was lying in a fucking coma. Why was he even still in a coma? He should be better by now. Stiles blinked against the tears.
Next to him, Talia shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Stiles didn't want to know what kinds of emotions she was smelling on him. Not that he cared.
Stiles couldn't stand watching Peter for long. So after a few minutes of awkwardness, John kept Talia distracted for which Stiles was grateful, he thanked Talia and fled the station. John had to hurry to catch up with him.
On their way out, they stopped to see Emily. Her mom was with her and she caught Stiles in a fierce hug before he was even through the door. Awkwardly Stiles patted her back.
"You saved my baby girl." She brought some distance between them and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Thank you. It's not enough but I don't know what else to say, just thank you." She was gearing up for another round of tears so Stiles hurried to duck around her to have a look at Emily.
"Hey," Stiles greeted her with a broad smile. "You look way better today."
They had to cut her hair and she had raw patches on her face and hands but all in all she looked good. Way less dead but he didn't tell her that.
"Mom says that you saved my life," she said, looking at him with big eyes.
"Peter helped." Stiles sat down on the edge of the bed. "He got you out of your room and almost to the stairs. I doubt I would have found you in time if I didn't stumble over you there." The working theory was that Peter had been right next to one of those wolfsbane grenades the hunters had shot into the house. He'd most likely been shielding Emily with his body but had gotten the brunt of it. Somehow he'd still managed to get them down the hallway. Not that Stiles would tell her the details.
"And Derek." Stiles moved the story forward to not dwell on Peter for too long. "He was the one who got us out of the house." Without him, Peter would be dead for sure. Stiles wasn't even sure if he would have been able to get Emily out without Derek's help.
"He brought us to the lake." Emily nodded but then she pouted. "I didn't even see him."
"You'll meet him," Stiles promised. "And then you're going to beat him at Uno."
"I lost my cards." The pout deepened. "Everything is gone. The whole house is gone. How can a house begone?"
"We'll build a new house." Deborah sat down on her other side. "We'll get you new toys. New Uno cards. We're all alive and well, the rest we can replace."
Getting uncomfortable with all the heartfelt Stiles stood and gestured awkwardly to John who was standing by the door.
"I'll come by again soon but my uncle needs to get back to work," Stiles excused them. "With my car gone, I need a driver to get around and John is kinda busy with finding those hunters." He noticed that he was babbling and hurried to flee the room before things became too awkward.
"I hate all this sappy stuff." Stiles groaned once he was sure that there were no werewolves around to hear him. "Why can't they just leave it?"
"Without you, they would all be dead," John reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah." Stiles didn't want to hear it. "By the way, did my car survive?" So far he hadn't dared to ask about his jeep but now he needed a change of topic.
"Sorry." John shook his head.
"Dammit." Stiles stuffed his hands in his pockets. "She died an honorable death."
"We'll get you another car," John promised while he climbed into his cruiser.
It wouldn't be the same, though.
They were halfway to the station when John got the message that they had found Kate's car.
"You're going to stay in the car." John gave Stiles a stern look before he turned the car around and switched on the lights. Stiles gave him kudos for not trying to dump him somewhere. "No wandering around the scene."
Stiles just rolled his eyes at him. As if he was stupid enough to contaminate a scene like that.
Kate's car had been found a few miles out of Beacon Hills and by the time they arrived, Parrish was already there, examining the contents of the trunk. Just when John parked the car, he came up with something.
"Is that a grenade launcher?"
