From the Ashes

From the Ashes: Chapter Eight

Three Months Post Asylum:

Peter can't sleep, hasn't been sleeping. The alpha tries to get even a few minutes but he's so restless that often his mate will spend most of the night alone in bed which isn't good for the pup she's carrying, and he's scared.

He passes empty rooms as he heads towards the stairs. A pair of orange eyes follow him, and he pauses at the sight of the hellhound guarding his son's door. When he peers inside, he sees seven bodies on the bed-shifted and not-and the pain shoots through him like a lance.

The kitchen is cool against his heated skin as he fights down a mournful howl. Time. The boy just needs time. He grits his teeth, his jaw clenching hard as his eyes flash crimson in the dark of the silent house.

Although it's not completely dark, for when Peter shakes his head to will away his alpha eyes, he notices a light from under the door to the library. Perhaps Claudia was reading and then fell asleep? She's been known to do that a lot.

Silently he pushes the library door open only to freeze at the sight of his son curled up in one of the armchairs by the fire with his nose in a book. Peter doesn't know what to do and makes to leave when he hears a shuffling sound before a soft voice speaks.

"Daddy?"

The alpha whimpers, his eyes tearing up as he slowly turns back. Wide almost childlike eyes stare at him full of their own tears. "Mischief."

"Daddy!" the amber eyed spark cries out and Peter gives into the instincts that he's been fighting to keep under control.

Peter buries his nose against his son's neck and whines trying to comfort him while also reassuring himself he's here, he's safe and he's real. "I'm here, dear heart. I'm here."

"Alpha," Stiles murmurs nosing at the alpha's throat and without even thinking about it the alpha bares his throat to his heir. "My alpha. My daddy."

"Yes, little one. Your alpha. Your daddy," Peter whispers rumbling soothingly.

The spark peers up at him, knuckles white from gripping the alpha's shirt. "I missed you. I was so scared, but mama said we hadda go see papa. Then we wented an-and we stay-ded there for like two years and then-" he chokes on a sob. "Then she weft me daddy. All awone and she didn't come back. She diddin come back for me!!"

The alpha whines and pulls his son close, making his way to the large L shaped couch so he can hold them in a more comfortable position. The amber eyed spark's head ends up on his chest where the rumble sounds continuously.

"I know, dear heart. I know you were scared. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you and love you and keep you safe but I'm here now and I will never leave you alone again."

"Pwomise?" asks bitten pink lips as amber eyes bore into his own ice blue ones.

Peter nods, brushing the sweaty hair from his son's face. "I promise."

Stiles goes pliant in the alpha's hands and melts against him, his head settling in the wolf's lap at which point fingers card through sweat-slick chocolate locks. "M'kay. I wuv you daddy."

"I love you too, pup," he whispers. "I love you so very very much."

"Bes alfa. Bes daddy. Bes wuff." Stiles shifts slightly to stretch out fully, pushing his head into the fingers for more affection and purrs softly.

"Awwwrooooooooooooo!!!" he howls softly as best he can and closes his eyes.

While Peter watches his son settle so easily in his lap, he wonders what just happened. A lazy caress against his mind tells him the Nemeton had a small hand to play but that his son was already working up his courage. Apparently adding an element of carefree, childlike regression was needed to lose the unwavering walls the boy put up years ago. The amber eyes that looked into Peter's when he called him daddy were those of a six year old boy who loves his daddy with everything he is and will be.