Only He saw

Mistakes

Peter rummaged through the cupboards in the kitchen of the refurbished Hale house, berating himself for not leaving some out in the face of company. Having moved in only four days earlier, he still wasn't sure where all the small things where yet, but he loved it here. He was back, and faint scents clung to the original beams and frames, reminding of the family he lost but still loved so, so much. He'd lost Derek too. At least the one he used to know. The gnarled and twisted vengeful creature he had become shocked Peter, leaving a numb pain in his heart that used to belong to his nephew. Derek had changed. They all had. Stiles. Peter. Cora.

As the Were filled two glasses with water at the sink, he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. Curious, as he didn't receive any messages, he pulled it out, setting down the drinks, the dull clink resounding like a gunshot in the general quiet.

It was Lydia.

Peters grip loosened on the device, shock making his heart pound quicker than ever as he read the message...

"I just thought you'd like to know that Stiles isn't as good as you seem to think. I've told the pack and I thought you might be interested to know. He's just as bad as you. He's been working for Gerard Argent. He told him all about the pack and everything we knew! He denied everything, but that's why he's no longer a friend of ours. He betrayed us all, even you. Before you ask how we know, Ericka and Boyd told us. Gerard tortured them and Stiles did nothing! I cannot find it in me to express how much I hate him and I'm not the only one who feels that way. Leave him alone, it's the least he deserves. -L"

The kitchen was silent but in Peters' head, the words resonated endlessly, a cool reminder of the cruel world he lived in. Why did Stiles not mention a word of this...was he a spy? But Peter noticed nothing at all! The memories of the past few days flashed in front of his eyes in a vivid film of betrayal and agonizing anger. The hug, the tears. Was it all for show?

Peter was seething. Anger forced claws to lengthen from trembling fingertips, and eyes to flicker in animosity...but mostly, Peter felt so so betrayed. The only good development had been ripped from him, by the very person himself. He had twisted his words into Peters' heart, warping it and leaving a sizeable chunk gaping, painful and raw. Again.

Clenching his claws into blooded palms, Peter strode through the house, stopping in front of Stiles, who was excitedly looking through the films lining it.

"Hey! You have every single Star Wars movie! Woah, dude, that's impressive!" He smiled up at Peter, his grin slipping off as he saw the murderous look on his face.

"W...what's wrong?" He looked sheepish, glancing at the films he'd been looking at. "Look I'm sorry I snooped through your films...I won't do it again. I'm really sorry!"

Without a word, Peter shoved the phone at Stiles, making him jump, silently urging him to read the message Lydia had sent. Stiles slowly took the phone, clasping confused, wary hands around the device, and looked bewildered. Peter glared.

"Read." Anger radiated from every pore in his body, and he was just a comment away from roaring at the boy.

He breathed quietly, slowly, in, and out. Waiting for Stiles to read the message from Lydia felt like an eternity. A terrifying, painful eternity that ripped through Peter, as he stared at Stiles. What had he done?

Stiles' head throbbed, an increasing beating sound rushing through his ears as he read the text, and in the back of his mind, he realised he was hearing his heartbeat, abnormally elevated in the horror of the situation. Because he didn't know anything about what Lydia said! A cold stone settled in his stomach, and he turned pleading eyes to Peter, who had turned to stone.

"Peter...I didn't do this!" His desperate voice cracked, and he took a step back, as Peters' eyes narrowed, a heartbroken look in his eyes that shattered Stiles.

"She's lying! I promise with all of my heart! I'm no-" Peter had taken a step forward, growling quietly at Stiles. He took a step back frantically, hurriedly putting space between him and the enraged Were.

"Please...Peter! Please believe me!"

"Why should I?" Peters' voice sounded wrecked. He spoke through clenched, elongated, animal teeth. He wasn't going to listen to reason now. "You...you made me think you cared..." The older man had seldom been so close to tears, but now he felt vulnerable, spread open for Stiles to pick apart and make fun of.

"And you just tricked me!"

He growled, stepping forward again, practically vibrating with raw strength and pain.

"I promise..." Stiles eyes filled with tears, and Peter watched him hopelessly as they rolled down his face. He started gasping, quick, frantic breaths racked his body and he stumbled backwards, down a step and a crack resonated through the watching house as Peter reacted only on instinct...

"NO" He roared, leaping to his side, retracting his claws frantically and tentatively reaching behind the body head, whimpering when his hand came away wet and covered in wet, dark blood.

He sprang up, lunging across the room to his phone, manically pressing the keys, 911 dancing across the screen as tears stung his eyes. Mixed emotions clashed in front of his eyes...anger, fear and guilt. They swept him over as he barked his address and the urgency of the incident.

Seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, Peter watched Stiles being pulled on a gurney into a waiting ambulance, and guilt crashed over him, racking his body in tremors. He did this. How did he know Lydia was telling the truth?? When Stiles was trying to convince him she was lying his heartbeat showed no trace of a lie...it was jumpy and fast because he was scared! Of Peter.

Hours and hours of debating, struggling and pain had passed in a haze of supposed heartbreak, and Peter could stand it no more. The Were scraped exhausted hands over sodden eyes and vowed to never doubt Stiles again. The boy had never done anything bad, ever! Slowly, Peters' heart began to doubt the text he received and made him make a decision which he would forever be grateful for.

He went to see Stiles.