Chapter Text
Peter was laying in his warm bed, his head resting on Christopher’s chest as he listened to his steady heartbeat. He knew from experience if he laid there much longer, he would fall asleep. There was nothing more calming than soft blankets, satin sheets and his mate healthy and safe underneath him. He really, really didn’t want to move.
“I should talk to Derek,” Peter sighed. “But you need to tell me that I have to, or I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to leave this bed.”
“Peter,” Christopher said. Peter looked up at him expectantly. “Get the fuck out of this bed and make sure our nephew is okay.”
Peter groaned as his husband pushed him towards the edge of the bed. He rolled onto his feet and headed for the door. “Don’t fall asleep without me.”
Once Peter made it into the hallway, he noticed that Allison’s bedroom door was wide open. As he got closer, he heard three people breathing in the room. He knew one was his daughter and one had to be Stiles, who rotated between the girls’ rooms whenever he would stay the night --which meant the third one had to be his nephew.
He peeked into the room and saw Stiles and Allison in the bed, their limbs tangled up in each other and the blankets twisted around them in a way that left their feet uncovered. How terribly uncomfortable --how were they even sleeping with cold feet? Allison’s face was buried in Stiles’ neck, while the latter’s head was tipped back with his mouth hanging open in true Stilinski form. What was wrong with Stilinskis? Why couldn’t they sleep like normal people with their mouths closed?
Peter looked away from the bed and found Derek sitting on the ground, his back against the wall by the door. He whispered, “You know, I would be a bad uncle if I didn’t point out how incredibly creepy people might think you are if you just watch them sleep.”
Derek glanced up at him, then looked back at the bed without comment.
“How are you doing?” Peter asked him.
Derek shrugged one shoulder.
Peter contemplated asking if he wanted to go talk in his room, but he knew that Derek wouldn’t allow him in there. It was also very unlikely that he would be able to take his nephew away from his mate after he had almost lost him.
“I wanted to talk to you before I went to bed.”
“Is it mom?”
“What?”
“She’s mad,” Derek explained. “Did she want you to talk to me?”
“No, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. And your mother has been mad at me since the day I was born. You shouldn’t let that get to you.”
“I shouldn’t have shifted.”
“Why not?” Peter asked him. He hated that Derek was feeling badly about saving his mate, because he shouldn’t. Wolves mate for life...a wolf who loses their mate loses themselves, as well. Their control, their ability to love, oftentimes their sanity. It would have been extremely bad if Derek hadn’t been able to save Stiles.
“I lost control,” Derek said, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.
“Yes...but why shouldn’t you have shifted?”
“It’s...dangerous.”
“I don’t disagree with you. Shifting in public is a horrible idea and can lead to very bad consequences.” Peter nodded. “ But ...why did you shift?”
“Stiles.”
“Exactly. So, if you hadn’t shifted...what do you think would have happened? If you hadn’t let your wolf take over in that moment to get you to Stiles, how do you think tonight would have gone?”
Derek looked at Stiles for a moment and a wave of distressed chemosignals radiated from him. “He would’ve gotten hurt.”
“Maybe, if he was very lucky. It’s far more likely that he would’ve gotten killed , Derek. Stiles is small and very breakable...he would probably be dead right now.”
A growl rumbled in Derek's chest and his eyes flashed gold, before he shut them tightly and took a few deep breaths. Peter noticed that the inhale and exhale matched Stiles’ perfectly. Even in sleep, Stiles was still anchoring his nephew.
“He’s okay,” Derek whispered.
Peter knew he was likely speaking to himself, but he responded nonetheless. “Yes...and that’s because of you . You may have lost control, but you were protecting your pack. That’s what you should do. You let your wolf take over because the alternative would be Stiles dying. Talia doesn’t look at the whole picture all the time...she knows shifting in public is bad, therefore she believes that what you did was wrong. Knowing what would have happened if you hadn’t lost control, do you regret what you did?”
There was a moment of silence while Derek seemed to think it over, before saying, “No.”
“You shouldn’t. Despite what our dear Alpha thinks, I think you did a really good thing today. I’m proud of you. Christopher and Noah feel the same.”
Derek nodded and Peter grinned.
Talia was not good at looking at the big picture. It wasn’t necessarily her fault --she wasn’t trained as a Left or Right Hand. It was Peter and Christopher’s jobs to look at the big picture and her job to lead. Peter would eliminate threats and ensure the prosperity of their pack, while Christopher would assist her in political affairs and advise her about the inner workings of her pack.
The problem was that Talia liked to act as if Peter was a bad Left Hand, which infuriated him. Traditionally speaking, Left Hands were not supposed to have families of their own. They were not supposed to marry or have children, because their loyalty should be to the pack first and foremost --not tied to anyone in particular. Talia was under the impression that Peter’s loyalty should be to her over all else, but that was not the role of a Left Hand. If anything, that should have been Christopher’s job to have the Alpha as the top priority. Sometimes he wondered if Talia should have been more educated by their parents on the roles outside of Alpha. It would have saved them a lot of arguments.
Talia wasn’t happy when he told her he was mated to Christopher. She was even less happy when he told her that they were expecting Allison. She was under the impression that since Peter had a family, he was unfit for his position--which was completely ridiculous. Regardless of his mate status, he was raised and trained as a Left Hand. That wasn't something he could simply turn off. It couldn't be overwritten.
Peter did not think Derek's shift was a big deal, because he knew the importance of Stiles' safety in relation to the success of the pack. Of course, as his godfather, Peter wanted Stiles to be safe. But it was more than that. Stiles was able to help Derek control himself, which was vital, since he would need to be able to reliably fill his role as the second-in-command once Laura took over as Alpha in the future. Stiles would ensure that, as his anchor and his mate --therefore, his safety was a priority.
Peter had been so caught up in his head, he almost forgot that he was still standing in Allison’s room with Derek, until he spoke.
“I couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t what?” Peter asked.
“Let him get hit. I was just…”
“Derek, that was a very scary situation. I know how terrifying it was for you...I’ve done a lot worse things than shift when your Uncle Christopher was in danger.”
“Uncle Chris is your mate. My mom wouldn’t be mad at you for it.”
Peter thought back to the night his eyes turned blue and his stomach churned at the memory. He did not mind killing to protect his pack...but that night had changed a lot of things, including his relationship with his sister. It wasn’t his brightest moment, but he couldn't say he regretted it when the alternative would have been losing his mate. Plus, Allison, Malia, and Jackson would never have been born. “Oh, your mom was very mad at me for it. Very, very mad. She almost threw me out of the pack...and she had every reason to.”
“But she forgave you?”
“No,” Peter sighed. He was definitely not getting into this story with a twelve-year-old, so he changed the subject. “Stiles means a lot to you, huh?”
Derek shrugged and nodded. “I guess.”
“I just assumed, since you scent him so often.”
“You scent him, too,” Derek said bitterly. Peter smirked at the clear jealousy in his voice. “The girls do, too.”
“It’s different for you though, isn’t it? It’s not about greeting or affection. You scent him because you want to claim him.”
Derek looked up at Peter with a hard set in his jaw and a defensive look in his eyes. “What?”
“I’m just trying to get in your head a bit. Figure out if you know why you care so much,” Peter told him. Really, he wanted to know if Derek was aware that they were mates after the whole ordeal. Sue him --he needed to know these things! It was his job as Derek’s uncle to know about his mate status.
“He’s...my anchor...or something,” Derek admitted, flexing his hands anxiously. Peter knew that he hated discussing his feelings, but he really didn't push him to all that often.
“Good, I’m glad you’ve realized that.”
It was better than nothing.
“I don’t claim him, though.”
“You smelled me on him and covered him in your scent until I couldn’t even smell Stiles anymore,” Peter pointed out. “That’s not claiming?”
Derek let out a noise that seemed somewhere between embarrassed and disagreeing and the older wolf laughed.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed to talk to me about caring for someone, Derek. You know that, right? You can tell me anything.”
There was a moment of silence, before Derek said, “I wanna tell you something...but I don’t really wanna talk about it because I’m not sure how I feel about it...and I don’t wanna be told how to feel.”
“Well...I’ll be here when you do know,” Peter told him, before reaching down to run a hand through his hair.
Then, he finally got to return to that beautiful bed of his. Oh, and his husband. He'd be there, too.