Only He saw

Bilocation and other confusions

Stretching over the arm of his desk chair, Stiles pouts at the floor and the intimidating pile of school work heaped against the end of his bed.

"Peterrrrrrr..." He sings, looking out of the door, willing the older man to come and rescue him from the inevitable. As his footsteps creak up the stairs towards him, Stiles rolls off the chair and flops mournfully on the floor, propping his head on the bed.

Peter looks around the doorframe, and smirks, leaning against it casually. "Y'know," He starts conversationally "Schools not gonna wait for you, and it's only one year left 'till you can discover the joys of college..." Stiles snorts and pulls himself up, tucking his smaller body into the crook of Peters, leaning against his chest as the older man loops his arms around him.

"I can't wait." The teen says wistfully, smiling faintly at the thick pamphlets littering the entirety of his room. Peter squeezed his hand gently, offering his solidarity without the need of words. As they stand silently, watching the light sifting through the open window, Penny walks up the stairs, stopping to give a lopsided grin that turns softer, offering a brief hug to the two before carrying on down the hallway.

They eventually take the leaflets downstairs, Stiles biting his lip worriedly, Peter adjusting his glasses, an intent look on his furrowed face. John, Nadia and Penny join them, sitting on and around the crowded couch to look through the glossy pages of each book.

"I like Berkeley..." He mumbles unsurely, fingers already leafing through the other adverts to scope his options. Nadia nods enthusiastically, John smiling faintly.

"Stiles..." John starts, his gruff voice unusually grave, "I'd love for you to go to Berkeley...but I'm not sure... don't know if we have the money for that..." He frowns, face hardening at having the possibility of the university taken further away.

Stiles stills, the smile slipping off his face, and his grip loosens on the leaflet. "There's lots more, Pops, and there's always the chance of a scholarship?" He replies questioningly, and John smiles, taking his hand and squeezing it. The Stilinski's always made it through, no matter what.

Peter looks on and enters the conversation. "As a pack, we could fund you, and no-" He ignores Stiles' angered look, and barrels on "- it's not too much to ask, and you've more than earned it with your powers." He searches beseechingly for a change in the teen's expression and is met with a stony glare.

"I'll take that as a no..." Sighs Peter, silently adding the "For now." in his head, Stiles needed to leave the shit-hole of Beacon Hills, and it would be beneficial for them all. Stiles snorted, and stood up slowly, frown in place.

"Well, I'm gonna do my chem homework, so come help me or not." He mumbles, striding out of the room. Peter looks up, noting everyone's stares on him, and nodded, following his mate.

As he entered his room, Peter sensed the tension in the dimly lit space and watched as Stiles sat hunched over his book.

"I know you're too clever to need my help, so I gather you don't want help with that..."

Stiles grimaces, being caught out. He nods, a guarded expression on his face. "I want to go to Berkeley...but I hate the thought of using your money!" He said, tone vicious. Peter sat next to him, taking the chem book and putting it carefully on the desk. He grabbed Stiles' hand and studiously listened, intent on letting the boy vent.

"And besides, the whole...Werau...thing isn't gonna work in a city...he said miserably. I need forests and Berkeley doesn't have one of those."

Peter hummed agreeably but shook his head. "There are ways around that, y'know." Stiles raised a bewildered eyebrow, confused as to whatThe Were meant. "Nadia?" Peter beckoned, angling his face to the door to call for the druid. When she stood in the doorway, staring amusedly at the couple.

"Would you be truly amazing..." He started, Nadia rolling her eyes. "And show Stiles the art of Biolocation?"

"Bilocation, hmm?" She echoed thoughtfully, and stood fully, before giving the two a thumbs up, and promptly disappearing.

"Wha-?" Sputtered Stiles, who stiffened next to Peter, who laughed loudly. Stiles glared, and looked around the room, not seeing the druid. They both jumped when a pebble soared through the window and landed neatly between them. Stiles ran to the window and gaped at a blithe Nadia shouting with laughter on the grass below. "What the fuck..." He said blankly.

"It takes a bit of getting used to, huh?" Murmured a familiar voice from behind him.

Whirling around, Stiles stared indignantly at Nadia, who now stood in front of him again, chortling mischievously, Stiles walked backwards, looking confusedly back through the window and seeing Nadia laughing on the ground beneath them.

"I repeat..." He murmured faintly, "What the fuck..."

Nadia's eyes flared green, and her form disappeared from the garden until she stood as one in front of him. "Bilocation. Apparition. Teleportation. Call it what you will." She says breezily, leaning on his desk, seemingly more suave than ever. Stiles' eyes widened as he shakily gazed at her, leaning against Peter for support.

"Is there a connection between that and Berkeley...?" Stiles ventured, questioning Peters sanity not for the first time.

The Were nodded enthusiastically, slipping his phone from the pocket in his jeans to offer the teen an open tab on Google. Stiles took the proffered device and peered inquisitively at the screen. "A...house?" He said, bewildered.

  

"Indeed, a house," Peter replied smirking.

"It is a nice house..." Stiles replied, fighting the urge to poke the sarcastic wolf. As he stared at the pixelated image, his eyes ventured over the green surroundings and the cosy atmosphere, the arching windows and roof, and the sloping grounds.

"It's up for sale..." Peter murmured, eyeing John and Penny as they silently joined the scene. Stiles' eyes widened, and he stared from one face to another, all tentative but hopeful, as the pack waited for his reaction.

"So you're proposing, we move to this house and I magically transport to Berkeley for every class?" He laughed, almost disbelieving. Peter nodded, looking at John for support.

"We could get away from Beacon Hills, kiddo." Whispered the Sheriff, Siles smiled wetly and clutched at the cushion held in his grip.

"Really?" He murmurs. The others frown, hearts aching as they watch the vulnerability seep back into the boy's expression.

"Yes...we can start over." Smiled John, ducking his head. Stiles grinned, squeezing Peters hand.

"Fuck yes! It's been a long time coming!" He yelps gleefully, ignoring the Sheriff mild protest of "Language!" to scramble downstairs to the heap of forgotten pamphlets.

Berkeley was back on.