Deviation Actions
Literature Text
The talk with Lydia, Jackson, and, the kid Peter had never met before in his life but knew he was gay within seconds of spending time with him, Danny, had gone well. Surprisingly well actually. Honestly Peter had not expected it to go that well. He had expected some shouting, disbelief on Danny's part, and Jackson demanding he fix it. None of that had happened. Seems like the threat about Jackson killing people had worked.
With Alan's help Peter had managed to guide the three of them through what happened to Jackson, and what Danny's role in the situation had become. Jackson was the kanima, a lizard shape-shifter, that had immense power, including a paralytic venom. They explained how the kanima looks for a master, and he had found that with Danny. Danny could control Jackson, could easily keep him sane enough that they'd be able to get through this with little trouble while they searched for a cure. Or something so that Jackson wouldn't stay an insane lizard creature.
No, he was too busy dealing with his own insanity to be able to handle a kanima, as much as using the thing on Gerard Argent would have given him a sick satisfaction.
The three of them and Alan had left, leaving Peter with training. His goal that day was to get Erica to successfully shift into a wolf form. She had yet to be able to do it, but he knew she could. If she really was Sasha's daughter she could. Yet there seemed to be something holding her back.
Which is why he was outside sitting on the grass, Erica beside him. Isaac was off running in his wolf form, not far away as Peter could still hear his heart beating.
"Come on sweetheart, what's wrong?" Peter asked, leaning back on one arm, looking at her.
Erica shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? Guess I'm not cut out for this wolf stuff."
"Nonsense. You know what the wolf form brings?" he asked her leaning close. He brushed back her blonde hair, grinning. She smelled nice, impossible for him not to notice at this distance. "Freedom. Freedom from the confines of your human body. That's something you've wanted, isn't it darling?"
He saw the faint shudder, and grinned to himself as she nodded turning to look at him. She had her mother's eyes. "Then why can't I get this right?"
"What was your mother's name?" He asked, pulling away to look back up at the sky. He had his eyes closed listening to the sounds of the woods, of Erica's quickened heart, and Isaac's still close enough that he could call out and the pup would come running back.
"Sasha."
"Monae?"
"How did you know?"
And that was when Peter pulled the folded up photograph from his pocket, one of him and Sasha at her wedding. "Her older sister married my brother." He handed her the picture watching her eyes widening, mouth opening in a silent gasp. "I know you can do this. You just have to relax and embrace that part of you that is longing to break out."
Erica looked at him, then grinned placing the picture back in Peter's lap. She stood up glanced down at him and started to run. It was how many wolves made their first shift. The smile that broke out across Peter's face as he watched her leap into the air, her body swiftly and smoothly shifting into that of a timber wolf, could have lit up the night sky.
He started to laugh as Isaac collided with her, the two of them roughhousing, tumbling about on the forest floor. It was nice to relax there, just watching them. And god he had a family. It was slowly starting to sink in. In all legal situations, Isaac was his son. Erica? His niece. He had Derek and Laura. He had a family.
It had been several days since his minor freak out and the vision of himself killing Chris, and he had chosen not to worry about it. What was there to think about? Not like it would provide anything useful for him to linger on it. It would just bring heartache and pain.
It was impossible for Chris to be in the same room as his father. It was like the old man was testing him or something. There would either be wolfsbane near him, or some weapon that could have easily sliced his head off. What was worse? His disappearing acts meant that Gerard was getting closer to his daughter. He did not want Allison in the world of hunting. That was the last thing he wanted. The only reason he had taught her to shoot a bow and arrow was because it had been something he loved as a child.
His bow had been his most prized possession, a gift from his father one year. At least that had been until Gerard had found out he was friends with a member of the Hale family. The fight that had ensued had the neighbors calling the cops. His father had struck him across the face, hard enough it had split Chris's lip. The first thing Chris did was grab the prized bow and snap it in half throwing it at his father.
Chris put his fingers to his lip; it was throbbing, wet with blood. He started at his father with wide surprised eyes. He had struck him, he had actually struck him. His skin still stung as he picked up the one thing in the house he cared about at that point, his bow. It had brought him many hours of sweet release, the calming effect it had had prevented him from going off on his father on many an occasion. And in that moment, Chris snapped it in half throwing the pieces at his father.
He turned on his heel heading for the stairs.
"We're not done with this conversation." His father's voice was cold, and so calm it made Chris shudder.
"No we are done. I won't do what you want me to do. He is my friend and I am not going to end it just because you say so," Chris snapped at him, turning to look down towards the man.
He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He shoved some things into his backpack. He had to get out of there. He had to leave. Chris pulled his coat on; swinging his bag over his shoulder he went back downstairs. He had made it to the front door when a gunshot whizzed past his ear.
Chris turned to stare at his father with fear and disbelief in his eyes. His mother was behind his father, Katie was crying. There was pure anger in his father's eyes. "You will do as you are told Christopher. You are an Argent, if you do not want to follow our rules then change your last name."
"Maybe I will," Chris said pulling open the door though his eyes were fixed on his father. "I'm leaving. You can't stop me."
"You leave all this. For him? He's a monster."
"I don't care." Chris met his father's gaze. "That doesn't matter because I love him."
Chris looked at himself in the mirror, his face wet from the water he had splashed against his skin to try to get the remnants of wolfsbane off his flesh. His father had insisted on him helping with the bullets. Hell, why was he even referring to the man as his father? Gerard wasn't a father; he was a military drill sergeant. Chris hated him. Hated him so much he wanted to run an arrow through his heart.
He left the bathroom, going back into the kitchen to find Gerard talking to Allison. The two of them looked at him and Chris felt an uncomfortable knot form in his stomach. "What's going on?" he asked, not daring to take another step into the room.
"I was just informing your daughter that it is not the men who are in charge in our line of work. But the women." Chris felt his blood run cold. "And that the decision is hers about what we should do about the Hale pack."
"They haven't broken our laws," Chris said folding his arms over his chest, feeling his pulse begin to rise. "We have nothing against them."
"Peter Hale killed a hunter."
"In defense of a human."
"They killed your wife."
"No, that was the rogue Gerard. I was there. I saw it."
And that was when Allison looked at him with such hate in his eyes he nearly sobbed. "It bit you. I saw your arm Chris."
The arrow hit his shoulder before he had even known what was happening, and Chris fled. His movements were erratic, nearly crashing into different things, walls included before he made it outside. He got to the safety of the woods before he dared to look back at the house. He saw Allison, he saw Gerard and another woman was there. One he thought he recognized but he couldn't remember from where at that distance.
He couldn't stay there. He turned and ran into the woods, heading towards the Hale house. Back to the pack. His pack.
Derek had been outside watching the Stilinski house like he did almost every day. It was purely to make sure that Stiles was okay. Being around him, being with him brought out the protective side in him. The sight of the police car pulling into the driveway had Derek moving behind a tree. Not that he had to hide, but he was not exactly sure how well the sheriff would take to finding him there waiting.
He watched Stiles go into the house with his father. He could hear the two of them talking, but Derek did not dare pry. He was certain that was something that Stiles would not appreciate at all. Though he smiled when Stiles's heart beat got closer, as his scent grew stronger.
A pair of hands came up and covered his eyes and Derek chuckled. "Guess who sourwolf."
Derek turned and put his arms around Stiles, brushing his nose against the top of his head. He could smell gunpowder on him. "Where you shooting?" he asked pulling back to look at the younger man.
Stiles's face almost instantly brightened up. "My dad decided that if I'm going to run with wolves I should at least be able to defend myself."
He was wearing that red sweatshirt that had earned Stiles the nickname of 'Little Red' from Erica the second she saw him in it. Derek did mind at first but it had grown on him over the past few days. That and it smelled like Stiles and he fully intended on stealing it one day if Stiles could not be there with him.
"Your dad is a smart man," Derek replied, one arm going around Stiles's shoulder, hugging him close. "Should talk to Chris about getting you bullets that could actually hurt us then."
"Must I? I don't want to accidently kill one of you; with my luck it'd probably be you I'd hit when I was aiming for like the rogue or something." Stiles tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Or your uncle, and some how I don't think he'd like that very much."
That made Derek snort. "No he wouldn't like that at all. And I'm sure you're fine with a weapon Stiles. All it takes is practice. You'd do fine, would bet my life on it."
"Hope you don't actually have to do that," Stiles countered and ducked out from under Derek's arm, spinning away from him. "Is your uncle okay Derek…?" There was a worried look on Stiles's face. Interesting occurrence since not all that long ago Peter was ready to rip out Stiles's throat.
He could lie. He could say that his uncle was completely fine, but that wasn't the case. Derek had seen that look in Peter's eyes before. The last time had been the night of the fire when there had been a gun pressed the base of his skull. The completely dead look in Peter's eyes; the look of only hunger and rage. It was animalistic. It was terrifying.
"No. He's not," Derek answered leaning against the tree he had been hiding behind. "And I don't know if he'll ever be okay again Stiles. I am worried about him."
Laura had gone into town with Erica, deciding that since they were cousins they should at least bond and spend some time together. That and she was practically thrilled that there was another female for her to spend time with besides Lydia. Not that she didn't like Lydia, but Lydia wasn't a wolf. Lydia wasn't family.
It was how Erica and Laura had wound up in the park together, Erica talking excitedly about what had happened earlier, in a quiet enough voice that only Laura could hear her. Peter was lurking somewhere nearby as he had been the past few days. Isaac was at a weekend practice for lacrosse, so Laura had figure she and Erica should do something.
Or that had been the plan right up until they saw Allison in the park with Gerard. Laura felt herself shiver at the sight of the two of them, her inner wolf was struggling to get out so she could protect Erica worse came to worse. The fear that was coursing through her was one she knew all too well. It was the same thing she felt the night of the fire. And Allison had that same homicidal look in her eyes that Kate Argent had.
She saw the arrow before it had hit them and put herself between it and Erica. She waited for the pain, but none came. Cautiously she opened her eyes, looking up to see an African American teen standing there, the arrow sticking out of his chest.
"Boyd," Laura heard Erica say. And then Peter was there, sitting the teenager down.
Peter was whispering into Boyd's ear, the teenager was struggling to breathe. Laura moved to kneel beside the two of them looking to Peter. Her uncle met her gaze, his eyes flickering towards the arrow.
Laura took hold of it, and pulled it out. Boyd started to cough, but his sounds stopped as Peter bit down on the teen's neck. Laura knew that Peter hated having to turn people so young, they were already an emotional firecracker enough as it is, and they didn't need wolf powers on top of it. But from the way Erica was looking at Boyd, the way he risked his life to save them. There was much more at work here than saving a kid's life.
So there would be another new member to the pack.
Practice had gone longer than expected, and Isaac was in a rather foul mood by the end of it, not that he wanted Scott to notice, which he probably would if he wasn't too busy thinking about that girl again. But no one on the team really paid him much mind except to congratulate him on a great job at practice. It wasn't difficult, it let him exercise his ability to control himself.
He shoved his things into his bag and picked up his backpack, carrying it and his gym bag out of the locker room and into the parking lot. In the back of his mind he could recall Peter mentioning that he would not be able to pick him up that day, but he couldn't recall why. Derek was probably with Stiles and Laura was probably with Erica. Meant he was on his own to get back to the Hale House.
On foot.
Isaac took a breath, readjusted his hold and started the trek back through the woods towards his intended destination. It wasn't more than five minutes before he got the feeling that someone was watching him. He could hear them, the heartbeat, the sound of breathing. But he couldn't see whoever it was.
When he turned towards the house again, there he was. A kid no older than himself, wavy brown hair, and dark eyes. A grin formed on the male's lips as he took a step forward. "Sorry, hope I didn't frighten you." As he spoke Isaac watched as his eyes turned silver. "That was certainly not my intention."
"Who are you?" Isaac asked in a cautious tone of voice, he was close enough that he could make it back to the house. He knew he was fast, Peter kept insisting that he was. But was he fast enough to outrun this stranger? "I have to go, excuse me…" He muttered, going to push past him.
"I know what you are Isaac."
He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face the other wolf. His brow furrowed in confusion. "How do you know my name?"
"I listen."
"You shouldn't be here."
"My name is Charlie. There, now you know my name too so we're even." Charlie grinned taking a step forward. "Your alpha has his hands full doesn't he? He's being forced to turn teenagers. Interesting tactic on the hunters part don't you think?"
With a sudden burst of adrenaline Isaac had pinned the other wolf to the nearest tree, a low and threatening growl in his voice. "Don't you dare speak about my father like that."
"Your father? Your last name is Lahey, not Hale."
"Names don't make a family."
Charlie smirked at Isaac and put his hands on Isaac's arms to push him off. The shock that went through Isaac made him let go stumbling back with a startled look that mirrored the one on Charlie's face. "Did you do that?" Charlie asked, his gaze darting down to his palms.
"No…I thought you did…" When he looked at Charlie again he frowned slightly, there was something different, or something that seemed different since the shock. Then he turned, picking up his things and flat out ran back to the Hale house. The newcomer was a wolf, none like he had ever met before.
Gerard Argent stood outside of the house. The hunters had gone out to reclaim the abomination that had once been his son. He wouldn't get far. He had a secret weapon. Not just Allison, but one that no one had yet realized existed.
A grin spread across his face as he watched the hunters drag Chris back to the backyard. The wolf was bound with ropes drenched in oil made from wolfsbane, and there was tape over his mouth.
The tape across Chris's mouth muffled his snarls and growls of pain. His eyes were silver. A chill, an actual flicker of fear ran through the older hunter's body at the sight of the silver eyes. But nonetheless he knelt down by Chris, forcing the man's head down, exposing the mark on the back of his neck. "Well looks like you will still be of some use to me yet Christopher."
