Peter pressed himself solidly against the side of the house. He could hear every moan, every swish of fabric. In fact he was fairly sure that Stiles' scent was seared into his nervous system. More so than it already had been. He inhaled deeply several times. In and out. Clean night air. Nothing to get excited about. Nothing for him to lose control over. His teeth grinded together as they tried to extend. His betas didn't realize it but their situation was in fact easier. Survival instincts kick in; they cling to anything that can protect them. A mate can do that. Human or otherwise. But Peter didn't want to mate. He gritted his teeth again at the thought. More specifically, his survival instincts were telling him to do other things. The challenging betas were two. His pack was only three. It was not enough. Five or maybe even four would work…but three. He sighed, the carbon dioxide scraping through his teeth and escaping into the night. Animals at their base, right inside their very core, want one thing. Life. They do anything for it. Hunt, kill, even love. All animals know they cannot live forever. But they can continue the cycle. Peter's senses break the water of distraction and he's drowning in Stiles again. His head thunks back against the wall and he forces himself back into it. At the start of human civilization they worshipped fertility symbols. They carved them and formed them, painted them on cave walls. Even before a spoken language they knew. They understood. The human with the animal, now that's where it got interesting. The animal wants. The human thinks. For his betas, the animal wants to live, the human knows by putting down roots its chances increase. So the mating frenzy begins. For him, the animal wants to live, the human knows by biting more humans he increases his pack. If he didn't keep a lid on things he'd try to turn anyone he came in contact with. Peter needed to stay away from humans. It would be better if he stayed away from Stiles too. At least until Derek was no longer a threat. Peter had to keep Stiles safe. If Derek figured it out… Peter couldn't put Stiles in danger like that. The animal wanted its mate. The human knew taking him now could cause his death.

It wasn't like Stiles was ready anyways. Peter knew that. He couldn't watch Peter die and he was perhaps drawn to him now but he didn't know what was happening between them. Peter knew as time went on Stiles would figure it out. The boy wasn't stupid. And he'd probably be scared. Who wouldn't be? Peter was old enough to be his father. If he'd ever settled down and had children. But he hadn't. And now he knew why. He'd been waiting. The thought brought a small smile to his face. Even though he was, currently, living in a minefield. It wasn't that he blamed Derek for wanting to kill him. Going after his pack… Well that was different. But Peter had killed Laura. His stomach turned at the flickering memories. No he hadn't been in his right mind but still. Now that he had revenge… Peter wasn't sure that it was worth it. Would the rest of his family have wanted him to? Surely not. Surely they would have seen things as Derek did. As Peter would have as well if he hadn't been the one to do it. It was done now. He couldn't bring Laura back. He couldn't un-bite Scott. All he had now was his pack, his mate, and his revenge sworn nephew. Scott was just…there. Peter disregarded the last thought. He wasn't going to worry about Scott. So long as he didn't threaten his little girl toy Scott wouldn't do anything without Derek's say so. He had to figure out what to do about Derek. Killing him was almost certainly out of the question. Peter wasn't even sure if he would be able to. If it came down to Stiles, Jackson, or Derek he would protect his pack. It hadn't gotten that far yet. He still hoped it wouldn't. He sighed and forced his thoughts onto Jackson. The other boy had to be warned, if he didn't already know.

…

Jackson didn't bother moving from his position on the floor as Peter slid open the window and dropped gracefully into the room. Tears were still slowly making their way down his cheeks and he didn't bother trying to dispose of them. Peter knelt down next to him, fingertips grazing over his knee.
"What happened?" he questioned quietly.
"I couldn't stop," Jackson said quietly, shaking his head. "I couldn't stop it."
"It's alright," Peter said, tracing dizzying patterns over the plaid of his pants. "There's no one here now but me and you. It's okay Jackson." He calmed down by grating inches.
"He's never going to forgive me. I humped him like an animal."
"A piece of you is animal now Jackson. This isn't your fault."
"It is my fault," Jackson argued, "I should have been strong enough to stop it." Peter made a small sound, Jackson couldn't decide if it was a laugh or not.
"You're a newborn Jackson. Not even three days old. Trying to control it is impossible."
"That's not good enough." Peter shook his head. He stood before pulling Jackson up by the arms. He walked him to the bed and sat him down.
"You have exceedingly high expectations of yourself." Jackson didn't have an answer for that.
"I wanted this," he finally said. He dipped his head and ran his hands over his hair, stopping at the back of the neck and squeezing hard enough to crack it a few times. "I never even considered what would happen. It never even crossed my mind that it could make my life worse." His hands dropped away but he kept looking to his toes curling in the carpet. "It's not going to get any easier is it?"
"I promise you it's going to get easier Jackson. You'll gain better control. And the mating frenzy will end…eventually."
"Doesn't make any sense," Jackson muttered.
"I'm sorry Jackson."
"It's not your fault," Jackson let out. Why didn't Peter understand that? It was his fault.

He lost track of time. Peter sat with him but didn't touch him and Jackson was glad. Not only did he not want to trigger anything that shouldn't be triggered…Peter was like…an actual father for him. His brows drew together for a minute. More actual than his adopted father. He belonged to Peter. In more than a monetary sense. And that was good. He'd waited a long time to belong to someone. He didn't ever picture a family like this…Stiles as a brother too. He smiled slightly. He'd always spent so much time hating Stiles he'd never even seen past his own assish face. "I'm a douche," he sighed.
"You were a douche," Peter corrected softly. "Now you're just adjusting."
"I can't go to school like this," Jackson said as the thought occurred to him.
"No. You really shouldn't be around anyone you're not directly related to at all." Jackson's heart dropped into his stomach.
"You know I'm adopted right?" Peter let out a small sound, somewhat like a grunt.
"Maybe we should get you out of the house for a while."
"Oh my god…" Jackson said, cradling his head in his hands again. "You mean…my mom? My…dad too?"
"Anyone not in the pack. Anyone you're not related to."
"Yeah," Jackson said, voice shooting high, "we need to get out of here." He got up from the bed and crossed to his dresser without really knowing what he was doing. "Stiles'?" Peter sighed and stood as well.
"I suppose so."
"Is something…" Jackson paused, feeling both stupid and embarrassed, which actually wasn't very unusual for him, "is something going on between you two?" Peter blinked at him owlishly, fingers on one hand wiggling slowly, as if he was debating how to answer.
"Hm," he let out, chin dipping briefly. "Meet me there," he murmured before jumping out the window. Jackson wondered how much of an answer that non answer was as he packed, tossing clothes into his duffel bag along with his phone and laptop. His parents would freak for sure but it wasn't very often that Jackson did something against the rules and they'd just have to get over it. It wasn't worth the risk. He shuddered at the thought. Disappearing for a few days he could explain. Trying to hump either of his foster parents he could not. Jackson winced, his lips pulling off his teeth. It just wasn't an image he liked. Then again it shouldn't be… Slipping the strap over his shoulder he crossed to the window and jumped down. He set off in a quick jog, trying to ignore the slight smells wafting through the night. No smelling them, no chasing them. Straight to Stiles' house. Straight to his pack. They'd figure this out. Forcing himself to a single minded determination Jackson let himself relax slightly when he actually made it. Stiles half waved from the computer chair, turning slowly. Peter was leaned against the wall with the huge snowboarding decal on it.
"So what are we going to do?" Jackson questioned, dropping his bag to the floor and ignoring the obvious tension in the room.

A/N: I'm considering hunting Peter Hale down just so I can smack him. Seriously. I had the worst time trying to write him! We do not have NEARLY enough information about him. So I did the best I could. Hope it wasn't too bad.

Also, next chapter will flash back about ten minutes. No way I'm not writing Peter waking Stiles up. Mwah ha ha…

Lastly, since I've only just decided no length limit is there anything you guys want to see? I make no promises but hey…it could work out. Asking for advice and thoughts hasn't led me astray so far.

Thanks guys. :)