Magical Mayhem

Small on the outside, bigger on the inside, and while any Sci-fi geek will grin at the pun; it was true in this case. The store, tucked away in the corner of Main Street, looked small and unassuming at a glance. However, upon entering, you'd find rows and rows of never ending shelves filled with book. New books, used books, and book so old that they looked like they'd crumble by glance alone. The walls were painted a calming blue with framed paintings of distance castles, grassy fields, and dense forest decorating the walls. Between the aisles are little nooks and corners were one can sit and read privately. At the front of the desk, you'd often find the owner. If his handsome face with brown hair tied back, bright brown eyes and flirty smile didn't catch your attention, then his Irish accent most certainly well.

"Welcome"

Gwaine smiled at the pretty red haired teenage, the girl smiled back, though something about it was off. Next to her was another boy, tall and curly haired. Next to him, was another boy, not as tall as the other with brown hair, lanky and looking around the place with a curious but somewhat lost expression.

"I'm assuming you're Leon's students" Gwaine said.

The girls smile grew as she moved closer, the tall boy started to follow only to stop and turn to the other boy who had yet to move. A picture of a lake holding his attention, the tall boy tugged at his friend's arm. The other boy blinked, smiled at the other's worried gaze before going over to where the girl had been watching.

"Norse, Celtic and Arthurian" the girl said turning back to Gwaine.

"All the way in the back, along the wall" Gwaine said turning his attention to another student who had entered the store.

The three leave and Gwaine's welcoming smile grew.

~.~

Stiles is not sure how, but he got lost. One moment he is following behind Isaac, then he blinked and he's alone in another section of the store. He doesn't panic though, whether because he's too tired to do so, or just a feeling; instead he looked around. There was nothing out of the ordinary, just books and one in particular that had been placed on a podium like stand, completely normal; Stiles had learned, normal did not mean safe. Cautiously, he moved toward the stand, and found that the book looked more like a journal. Leather bond, worn and a little dusty.

It also looked very familiar.

"What are you doing Papa?"

"Preserving memoires"

"Can I see?"

A chuckle, and fingers through his hair, "Not just yet"

He pouted and there is another chuckle.

"Stiles"

Stiles blinked, a familiar hand was wrapped around his wrist preventing his own hand from closing the last inches to the book –when had his hand started moving?-. Along his back is a hard and warm body.

"Does Lydia know you're here?" Stiles asked, mouth dry.

There is a chuckle in his ear before a chin rested on his shoulder, the hand has yet to let go.

"If she did, I doubt I'd still be here" Peter smiled, "well, in one piece anyway"

"I'd support that" Stiles said, eyes still on the book.

"Of course you would" Peter hummed as he too looked at the book, nose flaring.

"…..Let go Peter"

Peter hummed again, this one more thoughtful, grip around the teen's wrist tighten just so. Stiles made a annoyed sound and tugged, the grip got tighten, and Stiles felt…..not anger but something close to it with a hint of a needed desperation that if he was thinking rationally, was odd. There is an intake of breath then an arm goes around his waist and he's pulled away.

"Peter!"

"What's so special about that book Stiles?"

"Let go!"

"Not until I get an answer"

"Didn't I say let go? I will scream, and then Lydia will come and kill you…again"

"She may do so, after I find out why you want that book so much"

"I don't, and why do you care anyway?"

"Call it curiosity"

"Let me go"

"Stiles."

"Peter."

Under that sarcasm he often found amusing, there is something close to hysterical, the boy's scent going sharper than before. Peter kept his arm around the waist and just as he debated dragging the boy away kicking and screaming out the store, Stiles finally had enough as he jabbed his elbow into him, it didn't hurt, and he didn't let go; but it surprised him.

"Let go, it's mine!"

It's took a surprisingly amount of effort to grab Stiles's flailing arms and spin him around until the teen was facing him, Stiles still struggled; above lights flickered, the books on the shelves shook; and a scent crackled in the air. Eyes narrowing, Peter pressed the teen up against the one of the book case. "Stiles!" he growled, eyes glowing.

Startled, Stiles went still, eyes wide and lost.

The Wolf didn't like it.

"Stiles" Peter said again, something like softness in his tone.

Stiles flickered over his face, then everywhere else before back to Peter, the lost look slowly fading until there was nothing but confusion and fear. Peter rumbled and pressed close. Stiles, against his better judgment, slumped against him. Peter, was never safe, for all that he knew the Werewolf liked him; Stiles always remained cautious around him. However, he couldn't find it in him to be even that. Something, that Peter was well aware of, if the way he went still, a surprised air around him; before he pressed closer.

"Found what you're looking for?"

Peter turned his head, there was the owner. And while the man was smiling, there was a coldness in his eyes that made Peter bristle.

"Afraid not" Peter then said with a smile that was all teeth, as his moved his body to hide Stiles from the man's sight as much as possible, "we'll look else were"

"A pity" The owner was still smiling.

Peter grabbed Stiles hand, and lead him out, all his senses on the man who watched them. Relaxing only when they finally arrive and enter Derek's loft. Meanwhile, back at the store, Gwaine took out his phone and made a call.

"Leon, it didn't work, got interrupted by a wolf. Elyan was right, as usual. What do you want to do?...You sure? Yeah, you're right, we don't have much time left."

~.~

It started with whispers, that grew into rumors.

Then she came.

Confirming that the rumors were true, that all they knew and loved was in danger. The fear in her eyes, told them all, that unlike all those times before; it wasn't a lie.

So they prepared.

Being prepared was not enough.

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