Chapter Text
Stiles has been on edge for a while now. He can't tell what it is exactly but there's a tension, a slight aura of being on guard 24/7 that doesn't go down even when he's asleep.
Peter's slightly worried. There are few things that get to Stiles like this now, after Ákos' birth.
***
It goes on for a couple of weeks more before he corners Stiles one night when both of the kids are having a sleepover at a friend's house.
"What's wrong?"
"What? Nothing's wrong."
Stiles sounds distracted and he doesn't look up from his laptop and the - - "Stiles, is that the FBI's suspected sex offender list?"
"M'hm."
He gives a long sigh. Of exasperation. "Why are you looking at the FBI's suspected sex offender list?"
"Research."
He takes a long breath. Lets it out.
"Stiles." His husband finally looks up. "Tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."
Stiles looks at him for a long while. Sizes him up in a way he hasn't in years and Peter knows there's some secret in Stiles' past, most likely to do with his family history, that he doesn't know yet.
There's silence for long minutes before Stiles looks from Peter to the laptop screen. He closes the lid slowly and carefully before taking a long breath, his eyes closed.
"I know I've told you about the Countess and how my family's descended from her oldest child but there's something there I haven't shared with you. I probably should have done this earlier but Mama said they never leave the Old Country and now the szar with her goddamned family is here. So, I guess, I have to."
Stiles looks him straight in the eye and he doesn't know what to expect. Is this about some other branch of the family coming to their town? If so, are there some kind of territories between the different branches or - -
Stiles stops his racing thoughts. "Not all of the Countess' children followed in her footsteps." Those words stun him to silence. "No, dear old Katalin had to be like her namesake saint and pity the poor, unmarried maidens her mother had killed. Of course, she told her children about the Countess and how her sister's, my ancestor's, family were continuing what the Countess started." Stiles falls silent for a moment.
"Somewhere along the line whatever warnings Katalin had shared twisted, or maybe it was Katalin herself that gave the mission to her descendants. It doesn't really matter how it started. But maybe a hundred years after the Countess' death, one of my ancestors was killed. When his family investigated, they found the culprit was one of Katalin's descendants. Ever since the branches have been trying to kill each other off."
"So, what do we do about it?"
"Well, I was thinking of getting her husband arrested for fondling teenagers if it ever comes down to it. As a warning to back off. Can't break the code even for those alattomos disznók. If she doesn't back down, I'll chop her head off and make it look like she ran away with a rich lover. Maybe Asian, just to spice things up."
Peter stares for a moment, still digesting everything his mate's thrown at him in under 30 minutes, before a wicked smile stretches across his lips. "Have I told you lately how much I absolutely worship that brain of yours?"
Stiles blinks at him and there's a faint blush on his cheeks. "Not really, no. I think the last time was with that banker."
"Ah, yes, the one with the problem giving us a loan. That was far too long ago, I think."
It was three weeks ago.
"Maybe you'll have to remind me." Stiles replies with a playful glint in his eyes and Peter snatches him up and carries him to their bedroom.
***
Later, Peter watches Stiles sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks. Stiles has a plan and probably at least ten contingencies.
Doesn't mean Peter won't make his own plans.