Be the hero

French Style

   So I stayed with Peter after Derek left. I was asleep but, not for long. Peter was reading the newspaper quietly on the stool occupied by the sourwolf before leaving. I was certain that he knew I was awake, but his eyes remained fixed on his paper, I tried to straighten myself but it was without counting on my back that brought me back to earth.

   At my groaning, Peter raised his head against me, leaving gis reading. But he didn't stay long, rising from his stool to trot in - what I think was - the kitchen. He abandoned me at the precise moment when I felt like blood mucus rising up my throat to escape from between my lips. I held it back as I could until Peter came back and threw a bucket under my head just as the blood passed through my lips. He tapped back with a comforting hand. After two good minutes of intense disillusionment, I lifted the head of the bucket, breathed out and exhausted as not allowed.

   "How are you, Sleeping Beauty ?", asked Peter with a disgusted smile. I lifted my thumb in the air in the affirmative and wiped my mouth with a backhand.

   "I'm great, I'm great, but one question, Peter..."

   "Yeah?"

   "Why does my body react by expelling so much blood ? I'm not dying, am I?"

   "As you say, it's your body that's reacting," said Crazy Uncle, "Derek has absorbed some of your pain, but your healing may take longer and vomit from you with the absence of my dummy nephew."

I was frowning, not really sure why Peter was making such an allusion and why, deep down, I feel like I understand what he just said. Questions popped in my head and Peter didn't give me a second to ask any of those questions :

   "You stink, it's gutting my nostrils!"

   "I beg your pardon ?... I know that, but I feel you're not talking about my breath."

   "You smell like a werewolf, my little Stiles. And the smell is unlike any of the werewolves in our pack, I'm sure my nephew smelled it."

   "I think this is the first time I've heard you talk so much about him."

   "It's my nephew after all. And no matter what he thinks, he's my only family and there's no way I'm gonna lose him. Not again," he smiled at me, with a sincere smile that convinced me of his sincerity and the truth that came from his words, "I'm sure you can understand, right ?"

I nodded and a silence settled in the loft. He was sometimes interrupted by my groaning and vomiting but, to my amazement, Peter remained patient and calm even though his disgust was obvious, which made me laugh when I finished disillusioning, I was quickly calmed by the grunt and the black look that Peter threw at me. I already said it, I never know if he supports my behavior or just appreciates me strangely in his own way.

   "Stiles," resounded the voice of the omega. Interrogator, I raised an eyebrow that pushed him to pursue, "What did the werewolf who attacked you looked like ?"

Flashbacks hit me and a thrill ran through me, "Awesome. But I'm easy to impress, when one of you grunts I'm afraid for my life, so yes, he was largely impressive. And he had a style... rather... I dunno, I would say, French, perhaps...?"

   "If you're not sure of yourself, then I can't do anything for you," mocked Peter with a light tone, removing an invisible dust on his handle, and then after a second of reflection, he raised his head precipitously, "Did you say French ?"

I nodded my head. His eyes widened and he got up and grabbed my arm, gripping with an iron fist. A squeal escaped me and I asked him what he was doing before understanding he was taking my pain. His veins blackened and his breath wheezed and jerked, "What's the matter with you ?!"

   "I'm saving your ass, so shut up."

I was squealing again, the idea that I had become a hamster who loved to squeal crossed my mind and I was afraid for a second before I realized it was not the time to about that right now because the loft's windows on the wall just exploded. From my seat, I only received one or two pieces of glasses, lucky as I am, the French werewolf landed followed by two other transformed werewolves that I suppose were the Alpha's Betas. I panicked and tried to get up but my back prevented me from making the slightest abrupt movements. Understanding the situation we are in, Peter caught me by the waist and lifted me up like a featherweight and laid me behind one of the beams. He had taken most of my pain, I almost had the feeling that my wounds were closing. 

   "Nothing is very right in my life at the moment, Pet," had I let out under a last glance of Peter who courageously went to face the French, "I can call you Pet', can't I?", my voice was extinguished in a whisper that I could hardly hear. Remorse struck me when I realized that taking my pain must have made Peter weak, and I was afraid that he would die because of me. Damn back!

   "As it's not surprising to find you here, Hale," said the electric and unforgettable voice of the French Alpha, and now that I was paying attention to it, he had a beger accent that sounded truly French, "you always knew how to adapt to your new habitat. At least, it didn't burn yet."

   "One of my many talents in addition to my natural beauty, which I see you still don't have, Gabriel."

   "What do you want, we can't have everything. Unlike you, I have power. I'm not an omega," even without seeing it, I was betting that the French was casting a defiant look at the pack's uncle. Peter grumbled but giggled. 

   "You haven't changed."

   "It's not done in a day," Gabriel said, "but I'm not here to fight you, Hale. I'm here to salvage the human."

   "If you didn't want to fight, you shouldn't have come for him."

From the corner of the eye, I saw Peter  in a defensive position by pulling out the fangs. I pushed myself a little further into the hollow beam, trembling. Apparently, I couldn't escape the fight and I couldn't help either. Grunts echoed in the loft, at the same time there were enough empty spaces for them to invade the whole place, I was now unable to move and maintain a regular breathing. At least that way, I was sure the werewolves knew where I was (am I dumb ? No need to ask.)

   God bless my miserable sight! The fight was inaccessible and it certainly saved me months of nightmares. Because of the awful sounds that were being heard in the loft, I was grateful that I did not accept the bite, because I would not like to be in their place. I closed my eyes, praying not to be hurt more than I already am. I sincerely hope that nothing will fall on me - ! 

   All of a sudden, and without really planning on my battle schedule, I have the deep feeling that a hand is catching my throat. My breath is suddenly cut and I can't catch my breath. I opened my eyes and looked at Gabriel, whom I recognized in the second.

   "Let go of me, you dirty dog."

He tightened his grip on my throat and I felt the fainting coming from here. Gabriel dragged me by the throat into the room, I had the opportunity to see Peter cloistered to the ground by the two betas, the Alpha approached the exit, me still hanging.

   "We're going, Peter," he smiled at him and Peter replied with a ferocious grunt, "Kill him."

   "NO!", I manage to get out despite the pain. Gabriel looked at me and asked me with a frown, "You already have me, that's what you wanted, right ?", I said, "Then let him go, he won't go far considering the state you put him in."

   "In a certain way," said Gabriel, after a long minute, "the human is not wrong. Release him. We're leaving."

 Peter groaned as he tried to get up, probably with the intention of helping me, but fell back on his elbows by stifling a complaint. Gabriel was taking me a jump out of the loft, no escape came to mind in the urgency and I was already deep in the shit. In the distance, before falling into the vapor, the enraged and distant voice of Peter reaches my ears : "You will pay dearly, Gab! You draw hell to your ass, old man! WE'LL BRING YOU BACK, STILES ! JUST DO AS YOU ALWAYS DO." 

   And the dark enveloped me.