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Stiles sat on his bed, just staring at the mirror, but unseeing. He tried to comprehend what had happened in the past few days. How he had been abducted and tortured. How he had crashed into Jackson with Roscoe. How Scott didn't even ask if he was alright. How nobody cared except for his father. And he couldn't tell his father for fear to endanger him.
"Does it always feel like this? Being alone?"
The window slid open and he could here someone enter through it. He waited until the person sat down next to him on his bed and put an arm around his shoulders, pulled him closer. Then he slumped against him, buried his face in the broad shoulders to hide his tears. He knew that the werewolf could smell them.
"It does. But if you let me you won't be alone. I'm here."
Stiles breath caught for a second and he pulled away for a second to look at the other one.
"Why? I'm just a puny human. I can't give you anything. Not anymore."
"Sweet heart", the other one stroke through Stiles hair slowly, relishing in the feeling when the young boy unconsciously pushed his head into the hand patting him, "I told you, I like you. And although I can't turn you anymore you can still be pack for me."
Stiles stared at Peter for a few long moments before he slowly presented his throat, submitted.
"Then I want to be here for you as well."