Chapter Text
It had taken three days of easy driving for the three of them to get from Beacon Hills to the Apartment that the Hales owned in New York. It had been nearly five years since it had been closed up by Laura and Derek. Derek had been in New York for a week already with Malia, taking delivery of the large furniture items that had been shipped from The Hale and Stilinski households. The properties themselves were going on the market, meaning that there would have no ties to beacon hills. Even Malia’s adopted father had left town. He had reconnected with an old flame who had moved to New Jersey and had taken to opportunity for a fresh start with her while still staying close to his daughter.
Nine months later, the pack was pretty much settled. Not that they called themselves that, but everyone knew that’s what they had become. There had been a few eyebrows raised over the lack of alpha by a pack based in Queens but overall, they didn’t bother anyone, so nobody bothered them. Malia had got an apartment of her own as had Noah, whose rehabilitation was progressing well thanks to the private medical care Peter paid for. Derek stayed with Peter and Stiles. He had hated living alone when he was in Beacon Hills and whatever their history, Peter was family. It would never be the same between them, but they had finally reached a place they could live in peace with each other.
They didn’t talk much about Beacon Hills or the old pack. It was as if they didn’t want to dig up the past in case it invaded the new life they were building for themselves. Scott had tried to call all of them at some point in the beginning, leaving messages when he didn’t get any answer. Mostly they were poor attempts at persuasion, although he did try emotional blackmail on Stiles and Malia. He actually tried to threaten Peter, but the older man laughed it off. After a month the calls were dying down and the last one had been six weeks ago. They hoped it was because Scott was accepting reality, Stiles and Peter knew better. So, they waited to see what happened.
Noah ended the call he had just received from Jorden who had taken over from him as sheriff, his role as guardian keeping him in town. The news he had to share hadn’t been good and Noah didn’t know what to do. Peter found him in their kitchen a little later, a glass of bourbon in his hand.
Noah caught the glint in his almost son in laws eye. “This is my first, I swear. Call it Dutch courage before Stiles gets home.”
Peter suddenly understood what had gone on. “Ah, I see. I take it someone from Beacon Hills has called you.”
Noah nodded. “Parrish. You too?”
“Argent. How he got my number, I’m not sure as we are only one step from mortal enemies, but he feels it would be better coming from me and I agree with him. He’s going back to France as soon as his interests in California are shut down and he's taking Melissa with him, give them both a fresh start.”
“Jorden’s already explained his position with the new Alpha, so he won’t have any problems there,” Noah said, glad that his successor would have less trouble than he did, being a hellhound notwithstanding. He looked at his glass before he pushed it away. “I never thought it would end like this. I tried to look out for him when his dad left, and I feel like I let him down.”
“You’re not to blame. He was given all the advantages. I understand that I handled him badly when I bit him but to only take advice from an emissary who let his last pack die could only end one way.” Peter looked away.
Silence stretched out between them. Only to Stiles had Peter voiced his regret for biting Scott. It was true that at the time he was more wolf than man but there were who wouldn’t argue if he said that much of what happened in Beacon Hills resulted from that mistake and could have been avoided had he not focused so much on his vengeance to regain in the new Beta. It drove him into the clutches of Deaton.
“Well, I hope you can convince Stiles. Because he won’t forgive himself for not being there.”
“Forgive myself for what?” Stiles asked, having just walked into the room from work. He saw how uncomfortable his boyfriend and father looked. It wasn’t a massive leap to know something big had happened. “Peter?”
The pair exchanged one more looked before Peter beckoned the younger man to sit. “We’ve had a phone call. Two actually. It’s about Scott.”