CHAPTER FOUR:
meeting the man, the myth, the legend itself: peter hale.
Stiles' eyes focused on Kennedy. Her head laid resting on his lap, eyes closed in a sleepless state. He gently combed her hair as he watched her rest. Unable to move his brown eyes from her soft face, scared that if he did she just might disappear again. He didn't remember Kennedy or any of the past that they shared together but after meeting her and hearing about a love they used to share, one that he didn't realise he's been longing for, he's sure of one thing: he doesn't want to lose her again. Even if things were different and they aren't able to go back to the intimacy they once shared, he knew that he did't want her out of his life again.
His brown eyes managed to pull themselves away from the girl laying on his lap. A familiar headshape coming into his view. He furrowed his eyebrows before realizing who it was. Stiles jolted up, carefully placing Kennedy's head onto the bench as he moved from under her.
"Peter!" Stiles called out walking towards the man. "Peter?" He asked once he reached him. The older man sat down with a blank look on his face. Stiles snapped his finger in front of him, "What are you doing?"
Peter gave Stiles a dry expression. "I'm waiting for my train."
"Okay, did you not see me come in? The horses? The riders? The disappearing rope? Did you not see any of that?"
"Do you mind?" Peter asked blankly. "You're blocking my board, I would like a little warning before my train comes."
Stiles' mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Okay, so you're waiting for your train. How did you get here?"
Peter smirked. "Pretty sure I took a cab," he told him in a certain tone, one you would typically use when talking to a pettulant child.
"Last time I saw you, you were being locked away in eichen house," Stiles shot back, which ahs triggered the former alpha to gain a far away look on his eyes.
"Stiles?" Kennedy called out softly, she rubbed her eyes as she sat up. Her blue eyes fell on the sight of Stiles, who stood in front of an unfamiliar man. She walked towards the duo a confused frown on her face. "Who's this?" She asked once she reached them.
"This is Peter Hale," Stiles told her.
Kennedy's eyes widen, she looked at the man who seemed to be zoned out "The alpha?"
"Used to be alpha," Stiles corrected before he shot a glare towards the older man.
Kennedy slowly scooted towards Stiles, reaching her lips up to his ear. "Should we run?" She whispered quietly.
Stiles brushed her question off. "No, he's harmless."
Peter gave him another dry look. "Wouldn't exactly say harmless, I still have claws. I was in Eichen, thanks to you."
"Memorys good, can you remember how you got out? Did they discharge you?"
"No, the power went out and I ran like hell."
"That's it? You just ran?"
Peter rolled his eyes, "Yes! That's it," he mocked. "I just ran away from the insane asylum that was holding me hostage!"
Peter sat up from his spot, he walked around taking in the train station as if he was just now noticing where he's been. "How long have I been here?"
"The lockdown was three months ago," Stiles informed him as he sat down, his elbows rested on his knees. Kennedy took a seat next to him, attempting to make herself look small so she didn't land on the werewolf's radar.
"I've been missing for three months and no one came for me?" Peter asked offensively.
Stiles shrugged uncaringly. "That's what the Ghost Riders do, they erase you," he said simply, his eyes flashed over to Kennedy to check on her. He watched as the girl sunk herself further down into her chair.
"Ghost Riders? Ghost Riders of the Wild Hunt?" Peter asked his head facing Stiles.
"Yeah, you know what I'm talking about?"
Peter sighed before he sat across from Stiles. "Of course, I know what you're talking about. They ride the lightning. They are an unstoppable force of nature. But, I promise you, they don't make pit-stops in train stations," he said, trailing off as he noticed an older lady give him the bed eyes. "I've escaped one prison only to land in another one," he grimaced. "And this looks like the underground lair of a depressed bureaucrat."
"Come on," Stiles said, his voice filled with exasperation. "There's gotta be a way out of this place, right? Have you tried looking around? Have you talked to anyone who knows anything?"
Peter looked around. "If this is the Wild Hunt, there is no escape. You, me, and your little friend are doomed to ride the storm forever."
"Yeah but we're not in the storm," Stiles told him before he stood up. "We're in a train station and we can get out of a train station."
"We can't get out of here, Stiles, because this place isn't real."
"What are you talking about?"
"Beacon Hills doesn't have a train station."
