They were once again sandwiching a teenage boy, allowing him the only sleep he seemed to be able to manage which apparently required being surrounded by both wolf and hunter. Their presence seemed to be the only thing that calmed the boy and silenced the screams and pleas for mercy that would never be answered. Some nights Stiles could swear he heard his father's screams mixing with all the others and it drove him mad. Yes, he could be cold and ruthless enough to hold a mask in place to torture those who so rightly deserved the punishment that Stiles' blade provided, but after it was done the boy was left hollow with only the echoing voices of those he'd had under his knife. For now though he was allowed some peace, at the hands of two men who so desperately wanted him to help him regain the something that had been cruelly stolen from him with the death of his father. Peace.

He cried tears of lost innocence as he whispered to the men he had pleadingly asked to be his protectors about the voices speaking to him as he covered his ears with his hands as if that could keep them quiet. "They keep screaming, and pleading. Asking me to stop. I can still hear them, all of them and they won't stop, they just get louder." Looking up at the men from where he had settled kneeling on the floor hands still covering his ears Stiles could see the worry in both men's eyes as he pleaded with tears rolling down his cheeks, "Please, daddy just make them stop. Just for a little while and I promise I will be a good boy. I promise, just make it stop." The men shared a glance before Peter grabbed hold of the boy hauling him into his arms as one would a child allowing the boy to cling to him arms around neck and legs around waist as he shushed the poor boy, "Hush little one, your daddy's will protect you as you sleep." Continuing down the hall not waiting for the hunter, instead just assuming that he would follow eventually. The wolf knew the hunter wouldn't leave their very own little red to the wolf alone, no matter the confusion he was suffering as to what he felt for the boy and the wolf he was now pack with.

Chris could still feel the ghost of Stiles' lips against his own like a brand even as he made his way to the bedroom to join the boy and wolf, something he both couldn't and didn't want to take back. That was the problem, he should at the very least want to take back the kiss that had left him feeling something, the same something that he used to feel when he kissed Victoria. At most he should be putting some distance between himself and the teen not cuddling up to him as he slept, but that meant leaving the poor boy solely to the hands of Peter who he had no doubt would take advantage of the situation. Not because he was evil, though his morals were questionable at best, but rather because he knew the wolf wouldn't be able to help himself. He would take advantage of the situation because that was just the kind of person he was. The wolf wouldn't change for anyone even if he wanted to so Chris had needed to come to terms with the way one Peter Hale simply was and how he worked.

Adaptability was important to hunters and he had been needing to utilize that tool a lot in the past few weeks, but it was his own choice to leave Beacon Hills, and his daughter to help this boy get the vengeance he so desperately needed. Now here he was playing an even larger part than the man had intended, the whispered 'Daddy?' kept echoing in his mind. He still felt the hot coil of pure want he that had shot through him at that moment, having the boy he had watched take apart hardened wolves without so much as a flinch clinging to his collar in desperation, looking up at him eyes bleary with tears filled with question and fear, asking for the man to protect him. To be his daddy and make sure he was safe, but Peter was also the boy's daddy apparently. Which both puzzled and caused his need to comfort and protect flare up, because he couldn't trust Peter as far as he could throw the wolf. Just as he knew that Peter felt the same about him. So he slept lightly one arm holding the boy close the other with his hand under his pillow gripping his gun, almost waiting for the wolf to give him reason to strike when so far he had done nothing but help to protect Stiles and keep him as unburdened by the voices the boy had told them about earlier as he possibly could. Peter'd had this look in his eyes, a look of understanding that made guilt for what his flesh and blood had done to the Hale family flare up over the want he had felt for the boy just moments before. It was obvious that Peter had experience hearing the screams of others echo through his mind, those of his family, and those of the ones who had taken part in their death.

Peter slept lightly just as the hunter on the other side of the bed also no doubt was. Only he was waiting for the inevitable, the wake from dreams of nothing but whatever haunted the teens deepest recesses of his mind. The fears he didn't even know he had coming to the surface long enough to cause the boy to awaken fear filled and searching for his father who had apparently been the thing that had kept the teen so strong and sure in life, even when that life had turned into a horror movie gone bad. Now he could fake a tough exterior when needed, but inside the boy was shattered and wanting nothing more than the feeling that his father so easily gave to him.

Scott couldn't believe what Derek had done to Lydia. She would always bare his scar on her skin now. He feared for Allison who was just as human as Jackson's mate. He missed Stiles, he would know what to do. He wouldn't have let things get this far but Stiles wasn't here and none of them knew what to do to stop Derek. They all just wished for Stiles, even though they knew their prayers would go unanswered especially with how they had treated him. What they had cost Stiles with their inexperience.