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Looking back at everything Peter realized he could pinpoint the exact moment that the events of this day had become inevitable. It has been building up to this moment for so long and there had been so much loss and pain that he had let himself be fooled into thinking it wouldn’t ever happen. But he knows now, as he takes in the look on his sister’s face, the same look she had in her eyes when he had sat down with their parents and told them about the baby. He doesn’t think he would ever be able to forget that moment. The clear and utter disdain, ‘a werecoyote, Peter how could you,’ and the utter dismissive tone when they said, ‘I assume she wants money?’. The shock then, when he had snarled and said, no, I’m keeping it.
The next 7 months had a nightmare as everyone in the pack tried to convince him how unfit he was. Then the baby came and oh, he had loved this tiny thing so much. The pressure from the pack had only increased after he brought his daughter home which culminated with him storming out of the house with only the baby and car seat. He had driven almost blindly before the reality of taking care of a baby had hit him. Finding the nearest store and going inside had led him to the second best thing that had ever happened in his life.
Malia had been three weeks old and he had been staring blearily at the baby formula options at the Wal-Mart in Redding. He had been exhausted and the angry and the frayed pack bonds over the argument that morning had been pulling at his attention. His daughter was mewling pittfuly in his arms and he had been about to call Talia or his mother and just give into what they wanted when a gentle hand gripped his arm. He’d snarled at the intrusion and had frozen, realizing in horror that his eyes would have flashed as he looked down into warm brown ones.
He still remembers the shock that he had felt when instead of panic he had been met with laughter. “Oh if you could see your face right now. No, no, don’t be embarrassed. This happens to all parents, losing control. She looks like she’s a handful too, your little coyote.” Then, before he could even fathom a reply to that (and oh, didn’t that sting, that he was so far gone he had no dry retort).
The woman then quickly and efficiently stole Malia from him, got her settled into sleep all while somehow (he still didn’t know how) got him to admit he had nothing to take care of a baby. Chattering at him the whole time she then, despite his stuttered protests, swiftly commandeered his cart to load it up with basic baby supplies as she dragged him through the aisles. After check out she had stayed with him and he had found himself at a tiny coffee shop he hadn’t known existed. Sitting with tea and coffee between them he had poured out the whole story. Of a woman who refused to be a mother, of how he’d had to bribe her to even keep the child, then the crushing weight of a mother and a sister who refused to believe he would make a good father. The woman (Claudia he knew by now) had just sat there listening while holding and feeding Malia until he had run out of words. She had looked him straight in the eye and asked “Do you love her?”
He had snarled “Yes.”
Claudia smiled again at his blazing eyes and then deposited Malia back into his arms. “Is she worth it?”
Gazing back down at this tiny thing, this precious fragile thing and had realized in that moment that his daughter was worth him losing everything.
The next six years had been the hardest and best years of his life. While the pack bonds remained strained with his family Claudia and her family had been what grounded him. She had opened up her home and family to him. Noah and Claudia had taught him what love and family could be, what it should be. Claudia’s death broke something in all of them. Malia had been incolable to the point he’d had to bring her to Talia’s to stay while he desperately tried to uphold his promise to the woman who had given everything to him. He had been more broken at the death of Claudia then he had been at his own father’s a year after. Why her, he had cried out that night as Noah had clung to him and Stiles hidden under the bed soundlessly sobbing.
Two years later it was Noah who was the one holding him as his flesh boiled and burned, and his heart broke into a thousand pieces. It was Noah who sat by his hospital bed and held his hand while his skin slowly knitted itself together. Noah who dragged him out of the burnt out husk of the place his daughter died and into bed and home. It was Stiles who grounded him to the world again with constant touches and hugs. Noah who would cry with him, mourning with him. For five months after the fire that had taken four of his pack’s lives Noah and Stiles were the only reason he kept living.
But then, Talia came, with grief in her eyes and soft words full of promises and apologies. Still so new to being an Alpha but determined to be better she told Peter. “Come home,” she begged him. “Be with your pack and family.”
“I am with my family.”
“And how long? How long will that work? They aren’t, can’t, be pack Peter. Not truly, not ever. They aren’t wolves, they don’t understand and never will.” She had leaned forward and gripped the back of his neck. “What happens when the hunters come back, brother? Or other wolves to pick off the lone omega with his humans, what happens then?”
He went with her, broken, desperate and aching for the warmth of pack bonds of family. This is where he should be, she had told him, with family, true family who understood what it was like for pack bonds to break. And he had believed her, he had listened to her and he allowed her to fill his time and keep him too busy to return to Noah and Stiles.
Four years later he cursed himself for his foolishness. He cursed himself for believing in a woman who thought it would be better for his own daughter to be given away rather than be raised by him. As his new red eyes stared into her’s, he knew this had not truly been his pack since the moment he brought Malia home.
“Get out, Peter.”
“Talia..”
“No, I have put up with so much for you. But this, this will not stand. Not only have you opened us up to be condemned by hunters but you would kill an alpha and expect to stay on my territory? No. Leave.”
“Condemned by hunters?” Shaking with rage he could barely speak. “When we did nothing, they burnt our house and killed our pack and you expected me to stay my hand when the murderer of my daughter, your niece was in front of me? It is they that should be condemned! Not us, not us who live here peacefully away from the precious humans they supposedly protect! Protection that causes them to release feral alphas to bite humans. And you stand there and blame me. No. Talia. This is on you. I told you we needed to hunt them down after the fire that we could not let that stand and you refu--”
Talia’s clawed hand slammed into his stomach as the other one reached for his throat. But he had not been the left hand of the Hale pack for nothing. His jaw clamped down on her wrist as it came towards him and his own claws sliced through her shoulder and stomach. Spitting out blood he twisted them over on the ground, dislodging her from his stomach as he did. Switching a hand to her arm he used his new found strength fueled by rage to continue the fall to land her on her back and dig the edges of his claws into the back of her neck. She quickly ceased struggling as with every movement his claws dug deeper into her spine.
The rest of the pack was frozen as they stared in various stages of shock or rage. The newest pack member, a product of the now dead feral alpha, just looked horrified. Peter had no idea what he must look like right now. With his sister’s blood on his shifted face, and breathing labored as he fought to retain control. He had no pack now. No strings wrapped around his spark to tether himself with. They were all gone, taken away by death and deed. Staring down at Talia he felt the rage give into despair. What was the point now? Why did he fight this? Wouldn’t it just be better to let Talia end it now? Claudia and Malia were dead, he’d abandoned Noah and Stiles by Talia’s urging of family and revenge, and now when that was completed she would abandon him too. He felt a cry rip through his whole being and he slid off her to hit the ground. She was on him in an instant, red eyes glowing and her face set in stone.
“Just do it.” He whispered and closed his eyes and waited. This would be it, no more pain or despair. It would finally be over.
Distantly a car door slammed. “Stop. Police. Put your hands in the air right now.”
“Back away sheriff, you don’t know what you have walked into right now.”
“I know I see a murder about to happen right in front of me. Get off him. Now.”
More voices shouting, indistinct and vague. He couldn’t seem to concentrate on any of them. What was the point? A warm hand was on his shoulder gripping tight. Sharp pain ripped through his body bringing him back into focus.
“Peter. Peter, open your eyes damn it.” Why? He thought as he tried to let the darkness claim him again. Pain shot through his body again though this time he knew it came from the voice next to him as the man dug his fingers into the stomach wound. “For fuck’s sake Peter Hale if you bleed out right now I swear to god I will call every one of Claudia’s asshole relatives until one of them gives me a spell to bring you back then I will tie you up in a chair, with a circle of mountain ash and let Stiles ask every single one of his questions about werewolves until you are begging for mercy. Now heal damnit. Please…”
Struggling to bring the world back into focus he forced his eyes open and stared up at Noah. “Why?.” He managed to rasp out before pain made him spasm and curl.
“Oh Peter…” Hands curled around him, dragging him into a warm embrace. “You know why, you stupid fucking idiot.” Hands curled now through his hair and he let go and let himself be pulled into the steady beat of Noah's heart. The healing that Peter hadn’t realized he had been stopping was working now. Faster than before as it was now aided by the stronger alpha spark. He closed his eyes again and relaxed into Noah’s tight grip. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Like hell I shouldn’t have.”
“Noah…”
“No, I am through and done with you making decisions out of your own fear or high handed ideas of what is best for me and my kid. I am taking you home with me and you are staying there.”
Too tired to fight anymore he let himself give in. “Ok.”
Later, when Noah had somehow bullied, cajoled and ordered Talia and Chris Argent into a truce, Kate Argent’s body taken away and posthumously charged for arson and murder, Noah dragged him into the house got him cleaned up and into bed. Stiles has come clattering into the house, all limbs, sarcasm and terrified concern so he barely fought it after the teenager punches him then curls up and sobs into Peter’s arms.
Later, when Peter lets himself breath in the familiar scent of the Silinksi house, when Noah’s body holds him tight from one side while Stiles clings to the other, as he drifts off to sleep he thinks, maybe, just maybe he hasn’t lost everything after all.