Okay, so maybe this is early. Maybe I was working on this at 11:45 this morning. Who knows? Not us! (Okay, that's legit what happened, but you guys said yes anyway so! DON'T YELL AT ME, I WANTED TO GET THIS UP! I WANT TO! BE! A PRODUCTIVE! INDIVIDUAL! I SWEAR!) Haha, yeah, I have no idea how well I'm going to keep this update streak up? I think I've got up to the game planned plot wise, maybe one or two after that. The only problem is, how difficult are those chapters going to be to write and is Me going to hold up to that?
Who knows, but I promise I'll try to keep up on it. TO REVIEWS!

Mars: Right. And like OF COURSE I also write this because I love writing and this story, but like with 2-3 of my own projects, and numerous other Fanfics I have in progress, a big pro on working on this instead of those is that I get the feedback and get confirmation that I'm doing good and I still got it! I'm less there with people getting mad at their fans for not reviewing. But I totally get frustration or just general upsetness for lack of reviews. It's stressful and authors need hella support. A lot have post goals, "# reviews and I'll post the next chap!", and then get hate for that? Like? Leave authors alone, let them be happy? (I can't do that because I'm Terrible, but each to their own!) So, I get kind of salty about it.
But, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, YES, I DID THE CHAPTER, THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN, I MEAN PROBS NOT, BUT IT FELT LIKE IT WHILE WRITING. AAAAAAAAAAAH, Y'ALL ARE GONNA CRY, I'M SOOOOO PROUD. Just a heads up, this IS more or less canon compliant. To phrase it without spoilers, Chris is not right in his actions towards Derek last chapter, despite thinking otherwise.

Cassie: I CAN TELL HOW PISSED YOU AAAAAAAAAAAARE! I CAN FEEL IT, CASS. YOU'RE STILL GONNA CRY SO MUCH, I'M SORRY, THIS IS JUST SO SATISFYING, YOU'RE GOING TO HATE ME, I'VE NEVER FELT SO ACCOMPLISHED, I'M SORRY, I LOVE YOU, AND I'M REALLY REALLY REALLY SORRY FRIEND, BUT PLEASE UNDERSTAND, I'M PATHETIC SO THIS IS A REALLY HIGH POINT IN MY LIFE, PLEASE ENJOY THE CHAPTER, AND FEEL FREE TO YELL AT ME AFTER, THANKS! To Repeat: Just a heads up, this IS more or less canon compliant. To phrase it without spoilers, Chris is not right in his actions towards Derek last chapter, despite thinking otherwise.

HERE WE GO, ENJOY!

~.~

Chris closed the door gingerly as he could as he stormed into his darkened office, breath shallow, furious. He tried to reign in his rage. He failed at that too. His desk lamp shattered against the wall before he'd realized he'd grabbed it. God, he hoped that sound proofing was quality. His body shook, no other outlet for his anger, sorrow, or self disappointment. A thousand lamps couldn't have choked back the sob wringing its way up Chris' throat. He slammed his fist down on his desk, but it was too late to do him any good. What good was his rage if it couldn't get him revenge? In the dim light of the street lamps filtering through his curtains, he crumbled into the chair behind him, holding his head pitifully in his hand. He gave way to the aching sobs, trying not to wallow in his memories, and failing yet again.

.~.

He was young then. It was before he was a father, before he was a husband.

A young man, barely his junior he'd come to find out. He looked so much younger. Or maybe Chris had just always looked like an old man.

He was so terrified, caught in one of their traps, Chris' gun trained on him defensively. A notebook in his hands and tears brimming in his eyes, too terrified to speak.

How couldn't Chris let him go?

He never felt wrong in that...

.~.

The next time he met him was at the store. Chris pretended to be furious with him.

"I followed you, obviously..." Chris had always been mesmerized by that drawl.

"Why? I could reveal you, you know..." Chris had said out of spite. He'd never have. But this werewolf just laughed. "What?"

"You tell people I'm a werewolf, they'll think your crazy. If I told them you tried to kill me though..."

"I didn't try to-" Peter gave him a shy but somehow wolfish smile.

"I'm just using it as a comparison..."

He saw him a few more times. He assumed most of these occasions were coincidence. He stayed away though, not realizing the feeling in his stomach was love. He's not sure he'd have gone to him if he'd known.

.~.

Next they spoke was in those same woods, a few miles off from where they'd been.

He found him caught by another trap. This time spikes covered with wolfsbane.

He dragged him away from the trap, the sounds of his friends and family searching the woods, hot in his ears, all the way to an abandoned root cellar. He burned the poison from his wounds, doing his best to be gentle with him. He told himself he only cared because he didn't want him screaming and giving them away. He had no lies to tell himself as to why he was helping the wolf.

Or why he watched him sleep for over a half an hour. He was understandable cautious when he woke, but Chris couldn't stop staring at him as he eyes still drooped from restless sleep.

"Where am I? How long was I out?" He grumbled, only slightly defensive. Chris finally managed to avert gaze.

"Only thirty minutes..." Chris has always remembered how amazed he was that this half dead, corpse of a boy could muster up a scoff, even in his state.

"Only thirty minutes... Well then." It had sounded like he intended to say something witty, but all that came was a small groan. Chris stopped him as he went to sit up.

"Hey hey, relax, you're hurt, give yourself a break." He barely got the kid to sit back. "Why the hell do you keep coming out here anyway?" He'd sighed, and Chris waited restlessly for his reply.

"I come out here to sketch, for school." Chris just nodded.

"You go to Beacon?" Chris found himself fixed with the most bewildered look.

"I'm in college." Chris was dumbfounded, but nodded.

"What are you going for?"

"Artsy stuff. Mostly painting and that, but a couple writing and pottery classes." Chris nodded along as he droned on, passion evident even in his still sleepy, soft blue eyes. At first Chris had thought they were just his wolf eyes, but several times had he seen this wasn't the case. "I mean hopefully, but I did register early so I would get preferred placement. This is my last chance to take them, so I'm crossing my fingers... I mean I can always go back for community courses, but I really want them under my degree." Chris had snapped back to reality at that.

"You're a senior?" He was fixed with half a glare, but Chris didn't pay it any mind. "How old are you?" He rolled his eyes.

"Older than I look to you, apparently..." Chris tried not to sigh, and failed.

"So do I get a name for my trouble this time? Or are you just going to stalk me more?" He'd surveyed him for a long time. Well over a minute, literally. Looking back it seemed more like it was between five and forever though.

"I'll give you mine if you give me yours..." He'd finally answered, his voice conspiring for nothing more than an exchange of names, and he smiled at the spark of innocence he saw even in this (apparently) grown man. Chris obviously knew this really was a risk, for both of them, but... God, he'd just sounded like a kid looking so desperately to share a cherished secret.

"Christopher." He said, letting the 'r' sit silent on the end. This werewolf eyed him carefully before trying to sit up and lean forward. After a good effort, Chris twisted to help. He was close when he answered, gentle and quiet.

"I'm Peter..." Christopher could remember to this day how far gone he was the second he heard that name... The moment he'd pulled away, just slightly, to look into those living embodiment of the ocean, and smile back at him.

Some lonely nights it was all he needed to rid him of inconvenient frustrations. Others... Others, it was all it took to bring him to the edge of his alcoholism... Or worse.

.~.

Then there was the last time they'd truly spoken.

They'd woken up in the later portion of the afternoon, neither of them on what one would call a normal sleep schedule.

The first thing either them had thought to do was to kiss the very breath out of each other.

Chris wishes that he could compartmentalize that. That he could look back on that without the weight of every memory that came after.

"Nothing would make me happier than kissing you like this for the rest of my life..." That was never untrue. He might have been a coward but that didn't change what he'd wanted. What he'd wanted every day since.

"Then why don't you?" He could still hear the sleepy rumble of Peter's voice, could still feel the way his breath kissed the shell of his ear. But he had sighed. He hated that sigh.

"Peter, don't..." He held Peter's smaller frame close, all it took to keep him from pulling away.

"We have to stop pretending this isn't a necessary conversation..." He put his forehead to Peter's, spoke with promise.

"Tell me what you want me to do... I'll do it." Peter sighed right back at him. He hated that sigh too.

"You're really going to put that on me..." Chris gave him a sorrowful look.

"You know I can't do right by you... Not on my own... Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you." Peter had tears behind his eyes, even though Chris' still had hope.

"You want me to tell you to run away with me? To come down with me to my place when break ends, and just live happily ever after?" Chris pressed his lips to Peter's, begging silently.

"Ask me to and I'll pack now..." Chris' hope died so softly as Peter's tears rolled off his cheeks.

"You know I can't..." Chris saw the end. He didn't want it.

"Why?" He'd insisted.

"I can't take you from your family..."

"You can be my family..."

"You want kids."

"I want you more." He pushed. But Peter's expression was sadder than he thought him capable.

"If you put this on me, I'll tell you to stay... I'm not selfish enough to tell you anything else." His heart hurt more than any wound he'd ever had.

"Peter... Be selfish..." Peter only shook his head.

"The most I can ask for is once more..."

He didn't think either of them could enjoy it. He was in too much pain. And Peter, he had cried. He left crying.

.~.

The next time he'd seen Peter, he had a little niece, five years old, as old as his own baby girl, nestled on his hip.

And he'd pretended they'd hardly ever met.

He couldn't even explain through his tears to Victoria that night.

.~.

He'd been happy for Kate when she'd found happiness where he'd failed. A younger Hale boy. Chris could see in how amused she was over his every passion. They'd even shared a love of history, and Chris was happy that he'd at least let Kate know that it was possible, that she wasn't wrong for loving someone their family wouldn't call ideal, and that he was there for her. He was glad his failure wouldn't be hers. And he was particularly glad that she would be able to marry whoever she wished.

Panic filled his heart when she'd called, sounding so upset.

Hale Estate all but wiped out in Tragic Fire.

As if it wasn't enough to know the love of his life was comatose, severe burns to most of his body, that Peter'd never look at him with those soft eyes again...

"I don't know... I don't want to say anything to anyone because... I don't really know but... God, Chris... He was upset... His mother was really- she'd said-... I told him not to do anything rash but... And the three of them left so suddenly after... I don't know what to-... I- I think it was Derek, Chris..."

Chris was glad his daughter had been at school.

Even still she came home to her mother sweeping up glass, a kitchen she couldn't enter, and her father locked in her parents' bedroom, his crying and sobs and mournful bellowing a ghost in the air of the quiet night.

.~.

"I'm so sorry, Peter..." He cried, sniffling to himself. "I keep failing you..."