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He couldn’t believe it had been a full decade since Scott had been bitten. He wouldn’t say that it had all gone to hell ten years ago, but it was pretty damn close. Yeah, there had been some good times, great times even, but mostly it was monster of the week and dealing with supernatural politics, with the odd murder or three thrown in for good measure.
And truthfully, he could more or less deal with the monsters and murders, it was the politics that were the fecking nightmare.
Deaton being corrupt hadn’t helped in the slightest. Having a corrupt Emissary was not a good thing. It tended to give a pack a bad reputation, even if the pack didn't have a clue, and as such the Hale pack had unfortunately had that reputation since before the fire.
That Deaton had been in the know about the fire, was just the icing on the proverbial cake.
Really, all he had wanted to do was GWU and be a police officer, maybe the FBI if he’d been lucky. What he’d got stuck with was a needy tree and a town that seemed to be sat on a Hell Mouth.
And he wasn’t Buffy and neither were any of Derek and Peter’s pack.
Though, add bleach and a bad English accent and Peter might pass as Spike given the way he flip-flopped between being their monster of the week and not. If it wasn’t for Derek staying his hand, Peter would have been one of those murders a long time ago.
Especially since Peter seemed to be cosying up with his Dad recently, and wasn’t that a thought that required brain bleach?
So ten years on life was not what he was expected and certainly not what he wanted, but he was coping mostly.
Even if his Dad’s choice of dates did seem to be very suspect. Maybe a check for manipulation of some kind wouldn’t go amiss.