Only He saw

Haggling Techniques

"Yes, I'd like to request a place in your service, sir, a transfer."

Johns deep voice could be heard through the door, the baritone rumble letting words escape here and there to the waiting Stiles outside the room. He sighs, letting his head thunk onto the wood, jumping minutely as Peter rounds the corner, enveloping him in a much-needed hug.

"Hey." He murmured into the teen's hair, chin resting in the unruly curls that had yet to be maintained. Stiles huffed, and pulled the Wolf to the couch, flopping down on it miserably and flicking through the channels, each one a repetitive monotony.

"Hey." Stiles returned, a frown firmly on his face. Peter leaned into him, offering his silent support, waiting for John to finish the call. He tried not to listen, instead focusing on the cheesy commercials on screen.

Finally, the telltale silence had Stiles eagerly sitting straighter, eager eyes scanning the opening door as his father exited. "I'm sure you heard everything, so I take it you already know the outcome." He said dryly, sitting in the chair opposite the teen.

Stiles rolled his eyes, stifling a small smile. "I heard some parts, but Peter," He elbowed said werewolf. Peter grunted, poking Stiles in the ribs. "Wouldn't tell me anything," John smirked approvingly. "I'm going to assume from your grin that it went okay?" Implored Stiles, the TV entirely forgotten.

"Yup." Confirmed John, grinning as he watched his son enthusiastically high-five Peter. "I'm all set to start at the Highmore Police Departement in a month and a half!" Stiles baulked, face going pale at the short amount of time until their eventual move.

"Not long at all..." The teen murmured, fiddling with his sleeve, preoccupied. John nodded, but the teen didn't see the gesture. Peter and John shared a look, and the Were quietly left the room to let the two talk. John sat down heavily in the free space, debating the best words for the situation.

"I don't want to leave mom..." Stiles mumbled, voice wavering. John clenched his teeth, willing himself not to cry. Stiles continued. "All the memories of her, all the good ones, they're here, Beacon Hills." He choked, face crumpling, sagging into the older man as he wrapped a heavy arm around his shoulders.

"I know, kiddo," John said gruffly, struggling with the same demons his son was. "But we can take her with us...all the best parts, we have 'em stored in here," He tapped his head, grinning wistfully. Stiles snorted wetly, wiping his tears away miserably.

"I guess so..." He says quietly. "But I don't want to..." His voice broke. "Start a new life without her, I don't want to do all the things without her that she should've been here for!" Anger enters his voice, and he glares at the muted TV screen, as images of ecstatic sales people flash over the screen. John sighs lowly, head bowed, and smiles painfully at his son, seeing the anger slip off his face to the more vulnerable side of sorrow "She was never here to see who I've grown up to be, however terrible that is..." He said, chuckling at Johns frown.

"You can create things out of nothing, you can draw powers from the plants and creatures in the forest, you can replicate the powers of supposedly nonexistent supernatural forces...Stiles, you're the least terrible person I know." John said sternly, smiling at his son's antics. Stiles nods slowly.

"But she still can't see it." He says morosely. He holds his hand out, watching as a caterpillar rapidly grows, spindles forming together to transform through the stages of its life, before becoming a butterfly, its wings stretching out across the teen's palm, startling as Stiles sneezes, before flying away through the ajar window, in turn making Stiles' squeak in surprise.

John began to silently laugh, bent over in soundless mirth, Stiles watching him incredulously, a small smile forming on his face. "What?" He asked, curiously staring at his father's jovial expression.

"You want your mom to know how you can create creatures that you are then scared of?" John exclaims, gasping for breath, laughing loudly. Nadia walks into the room, followed by Penny, watching the peculiar scene.

Stiles grins, chuckling in agreement. "Yeah!! She should know that kind of thing!" John snorts, eyes sparkling, and the two enjoy a moment of joy, separate from their struggles.

Peter sidles in, quirking his lips, and leans against the wall in interest. "I leave for a few minutes and this happens?" He enquires, laughing as Stiles stumbles over and gives him a hug, John watching through his happy tears, joining the girls giggling madly.

"You love it!" Stiles replied, looking up at the Weres face, delighted at the light blush forming on his cheeks. Peter rolled his eyes, failing to hide his nod.

"Sometimes I wonder why..." He mumbles, feigning annoyance, laughing at Stiles offended face. Penny ambled over to the two, wedging herself between them to join the hug, Nadia following her actions, the four snuggled together, soon joined by John.

Fifteen minutes later, Stiles shuffled out of the door reluctantly, followed by Peter. As the door shut, they inhaled the fresh air, taking a moment to watch the day begin before heading to the car.

Peter sat in his seat, watching the resistant teen quietly. "Three weeks left," He murmured, pulling his slack hand into his own. Stiles sighed, turning to him and smiling.

"Yeah" He swallowed, "...I don't want to be around...them...anymore." He whispered, voice turning weak. Peter frowned, throat tight. "But I also, don't want to leave...and then there's the whole money issue..." He grimaced, remembering the hefty fee of going to his college of choice.

"It's not an issue!" Peter replied, agitated, not used to someone being unwilling to use the proffered money. "I can pay for it, and if it really makes you feel better you can pay a small-" Stiles glared. "-fraction of fit over a longer period of time!" The teen crossed his arms obstinately, refusing to give in the idea of financial security.

"I've never been able to just...have something...not be an issue!" He said loudly, his steely glare surveying the buildings as they drove past. "We've always had to be careful with our money and that isn't going to magically change now I have a Werewolf safety net!" He griped, ignoring Peters amused face.

Peter shook his head, determined to make Stiles see his point of view. "I get that, I do." Stiles scoffed. "But now it's not like that, and you'll be able to go through college with less stress, creating better results, equaling a better overall outcome!" He said, hoping to sway the teen.

Stiles sighed loudly, sloping further into his seat as the BHHS main building approached. "I suppose you're right." He mumbles reluctantly. "But I'm going to pay it back when I'm old and rich and successful." He said smugly, winking at Peter, who laughed and nodded. "We can be one of those old couples that match their clothes, and go out to the park together!" He chortled delightedly, mind already chasing another future scenario.

Peter grinned, nodding along. "As long as I get to pick our outfits. I'm not wearing plaid." He wrinkled his nose in disdain, slowing the car to a halt in front of the school.

"Fine, but you can't make me give up my plaid!" He gasped in only part mock horror, gripping his bag, stalling. "How about a deal."

"Go on..." Peter smirked, intrigued.

"Plaid three days a week and whatever you want for the other four?" He said quickly, eyeing Peter, awaiting his response.

The Were scoffed, shaking his head vehemently.

"Two days."

"Four!"

"That's not how haggling works, Stiles!"

"....Two. My final offer." Stiles snickered, turning in his seat eagerly.

"...Fine!" Peter threw his arms up in despair, "Subject me to the torture...your own boyfriend!" He says drily, flinging a dramatic arm over his face in pretended hopelessness. Stiles hugs him awkwardly across the middle of their seats, before opening the door.

"I'm sure you'll survive." He smirked, walking off into the building. Peter sits in his seat, a faint smile on his lips, the conversation leaving him feeling light and happy.