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It didn’t often happen that werewolves could get sick, but young pups were still susceptible to certain things like the flu, so when Peter heard a knock at his door, it wasn’t surprising to find young Derek in the doorway, his cheeks flushed and lips quivering. “Uncle Peter? I don’t feel so good.”
Peter sighed softly but set the paperwork he was doing aside. “Alright then, come on.” He murmured, walking over and scooping his nephew into his arms. “Let’s go tell Alpha.”
The feverish pup nodded, curling into his neck and whimpering softly as he sniffled. Wolves primarily relied on scent for comfort during such times, but with his nose stuffed up, Derek couldn’t smell much.
“It’s okay,” Peter said softly, rubbing his back as he headed downstairs. He knocked on the door to Talia’s study, waiting to be called in before opening the door. “Derek isn’t feeling well. I believe he caught the flu.”
Talia’s nose wrinkled in poorly hidden disgust, even as she clicked her tongue sympathetically at her pup. “Poor pup.” She cooed, though she made no move to get up. “Peter, could I talk to you for a moment? Alone?”
Peter’s lip curled in obvious distaste for the question, but at this point, he wasn’t surprised by how his sister acted towards her children. “As you want.” He said, leaving the study and setting Derek on the couch in the living room. “I’ll be right back, pup.” He assured him, getting only a miserable nod from his nephew. His lips thinned, and he stalked back into the study, a slight growl lacing his words as he spoke before his alpha had a chance to. “Your pup is sick. Shouldn’t you be comforting him?”
“Peter, I’m much too busy for this,” Talia said, and Peter rolled his eyes at the lack of compassion. “Derek will be fine, you know this. Coddling a pup for something so insignificant is unnecessary. These things come and go, but Derek is strong. He’ll be fine.”
“Your pup is sick for the first time in his life, and he’s scared. You don’t think that warrants your attention as his mother? As his alpha?” Peter asked incredulously.
“Enough, Peter!” Talia snapped, hating to have her capabilities as an alpha questioned. “If you think it necessary to hold his hand, you can do so, but I am simply too busy to handle this right now. I have an entire pack to care for, and you seem to forget that.”
Peter curled his hands into fists, refraining from letting his claws out like he wanted. “I will never forget the pack that I help protect.” He snarled. “But neither will I forget their individual needs. Right now, Derek needs his mother.”
“I said enough!” Talia said, slamming her hands down on the desk as she stood. “If you’re such a bleeding heart, then you can cater to Derek and his childish illness.”
Peter’s teeth ground together, and he bit the words out. “Fine. But one day, you’ll wish you had taken the time to do so yourself.” He turned and stalked out of the room, taking a moment to calm himself down before going back to Derek. His heart ached to see the young pup curled up on the couch, sniffling and shivering. “Hey, pup. Let’s get you warmed up.” He said, his voice infinitely softer than it had been talking with Talia.
He grabbed a blanket and wrapped Derek up before picking him up again. He settled him on his hip, and his chest squeezed at the quiet whisper in his ear. “Mommy hates me, doesn’t she?”
Peter sighed, rubbing Derek’s back as he carried him up the stairs. “No, she doesn’t hate you, pup. She just forgets sometimes how to love.”
“How does she forget?” Derek asked, the teary sound of his voice hitting Peter hard.
He laid Derek down in his bed, tucking him in. “Well, sometimes she forgets how to love as a mother because she has to be the alpha.”
“Don’t alphas love?” Derek asked after thinking hard about that for a minute.
“They’re supposed to,” Peter answered, feeling Derek’s head. He was feverish but not too hot. “She’ll remember that soon, I’m sure.” He reassured him.
Derek nodded, starting to look sleepy as he yawned and blinked slowly. “Do left hands love?” He asked, looking up at his uncle.
Peter smiled, running a hand through Derek’s hair gently. “We do. That’s something we never forget.” He promised.
Derek nodded, on the cusp of sleep as he answered. “Good. Love you, Uncle Peter.”
A warm feeling bloomed in Peter’s chest as Derek started snoring softly. “I love you too, pup.” He whispered, leaning over to kiss his forehead. He’d grab some cold compresses and a good book and settle in for the night. Maybe an uncle’s love wasn’t the best substitute for a mother’s, but he refused to let his nephew think he was unloved.