Chapter Text
The phone starts ringing as soon as Stiles crosses the door of his apartment. He sighs and tosses the phone towards the sofa, thinking that he will return the call after he takes a shower.
He's just back after a mission that was longer than expected, and the only thing he can think of is the burning hot water making his whole body finally relax.
Looking around, he suddenly realises how much empty space he has now that Lydia left.
At the beginning it was awful. The not knowing why, the lawyers, the conversations until they officially signed the papers. It was not at all what he expected for his life, for their life. But after some time passed and both of them saw each other a couple of times to try to, at least, recover their friendship, he could understand. And move on. Not with anybody else, but with himself.
It was almost as if a straw that joined him to his past was cut. A past he had no intention to revisit, thank you very much. Being possessed, almost killed multiple times and surrounded by supernatural creatures… He had had enough of that for a whole lifetime.
The phone rings again, as he is walking towards the bathroom, and he frowns. Somehow he feels he needs to answer this call.
When he sees the unknown number on the screen is tempted to ignore it, but, again, he just knows this is important.
"Stilinski" he replies.
"Yeah, I know, Stiles, I called you" they answer on the other side of the line.
That's a voice Stiles would easily recognise even if a hundred years had passed, and that suddenly makes him feel uneasy.
"Peter?" he asks, caution clear in his voice.
"Yeah, of course it's Peter. Look, I am sorry for bothering you from here because I know you don't want to have anything to do with this but… Stiles I'll need you to come over to Beacon Hills as soon as possible. I need you. We need you, for real. Actually, we should have called you long ago and this would never happened and we wouldn't be in this shitty situation, because your plans are the only ones that always work, but no, the fucking pack didn't want to involve you, and here we are, trying to fix this fucking mess again just because this stupid boy wanted his gi…"
"Woah, woah, woah, slow down, Peter" Stiles cuts him down. He is not willing to listen to anything the other man has to say. He is done trying to fix other people's problems, that's something else he has had enough of for a lifetime.
And so he tells the other man, ending with the most convincing and assertive tone ever. "So no, I won't go back to Beacon Hills to clean the mess you all made, sorry Peter, I moved on from all that and…"
"It's Derek"
There's a silence on the phone call, the tension filling the air around Stiles as he notices the change in Peter's voice. "What happens with him?"
"There was an... Incident. He…"
Peter tries, but he seems to struggle with words.
"He what, Peter" Stiles pushes, feeling how the anxiety starts to grow in his chest.
"He's dead" the man deadpans.
The silence that follows speaks volumes. Stiles feels how his hand shakes until the phone falls to the floor.
The noise it makes is the only thing that brings Stiles back to reality, asking all the questions he can think of, all the how's, who's, where's and when's. And Peter replies to each and everyone of them as he listens to Stiles moving things and walking around the apartment.
When Peter gets to the point in which he explains how it happened, Stiles tightens his grip on the phone.
He can't believe that Derek sacrificed himself. And in front of his son, as if he didn't know how traumatising that would be. As if he hadn't experienced it himself. He can't believe they let him do it. Well, he can believe it, but that doesn't mean he is any less angry about it.
"It should have been Scott" he suddenly says, his voice as cold as ice.
"What?"
"Scott. Isn't he the true alpha and all that shit? He should have been the one sacrificing himself. But no, let Derek do it so he can be back with his girlfriend after making all this mess because he wanted to bring her back from the dead. What could possibly go wrong!"
Peter stays silent, mostly because there's nothing he can say to calm down Stiles. The younger man is right. Nothing would have happened if Scott hadn't brought back Allison. And the only reason they didn't want to call Stiles was because he would have told them how much of a terrible idea it was. And Peter knows it.
He is mad about it, too, but his priority right now is to convince Stiles to go back, to fix this mess.
"Look Stiles, I know you are mad, I am mad too, but we need you. No, scratch that. Derek needs you" he says, trying very hard to ignore his shaky voice and the lump he feels on his chest.
The same lump Stiles has been feeling since the conversation started.
Time passes before Stiles answers, and for a fraction of a second Peter thinks he is going to refuse. That's it, until he hears a zipper. And he allows himself to hope for the first time since Derek died.
"Stiles?"
"I've already packed. The next plane leaves in four hours and lands at your ten pm. Pick me at the airport then, and do not tell my dad I'm going"
He would insist on how the sheriff would like to see his son, but he knows that when Stiles talks like that there's no way to make him change his mind. If he doesn't want his father to know, he has his reasons. And that's not Peter's business, so he simply agrees on what Stiles wants. Given the circumstances, he would agree on literally everything.
After two of the longest days in his life, Peter feels a sudden wave of calm and confidence. And, what’s even more relevant, hope.
He knows there's a possibility of this not working out, but he also knows that Stiles is going to do everything he can to bring Derek back. He has always cared about him more than anyone in the pack, and if someone is able to make this work… Well, that's definitely him.
They are about to hang up, when Peter calls the other man again.
"Stiles?"
"Hm?"
"Please, bring my nephew back"
Stiles stays silent for a second, before clearing his throat and speaking again.
"Do you remember that time when you asked if someone in this town could stay dead?" he asks, and waits for the other man to confirm that he, indeed, remembers. "Well, let's hope the answer is still no".
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