Work Text:
Fool
"Seems just like yesterday we were innocent souls,
And as I look your way I see the scars and the lingering pain,
That weighs upon you."
"There's that empty look trapped in your gaze,
I see the effect this dark world has had on you,
And yet I so selfishly wish to be the one to take that empty look from your
Eyes".
"The one to take the darkness from your soul'
For I may have cast it upon you,
I see your fear in every move you make,
So what a fool I am to think I can be the one to save you".
"It seems just like yesterday we were innocent souls,
And as I look your way I see the torment I've inflicted upon you,
I see what a fool I am to think I can put back what's been broken in you!"
"This fool I've become I realize,
For a want to fix what I've broken,
Your wretched soul, empty gaze, and fearful mind, are my possession,
And yet I wish to free you still, I am your fool!"
Stiles glared at the words, his hands were covered in ink, the pen gripped so
harshly in his hand, had broken as his eyes blurred with unshed tears, he
felt like reaching into the furthest part of his heart and ripping out that tiny
box that held all his emotions and throw it so far away, that even with a pack of supernaturals with enhanced senses they'd never find it.
The red ink in which he'd harshly let loose the torrent of feelings he had
stored inside, smeared across both the paper and his hands, like remnants
of the blood he'd spilled.
The Nogitsune may have been expelled but his guilt forever marred his
thoughts, he didn't know, how to move forward, or what to do... reaching for the paper, he ripped it out angrily from the bindings and balled it up hand raised to throw it away, throw away the poisonous wretched words, to throw away the— but he couldn't could he? He could never throw away the truth, it was his poison, lowering his hand he let it fall to his side limply and as he sat there still at his desk, staring at nothing, wondering what he could do, let go or forever be bound by the words that felt etched in his heart, across paper and like the spilt ink, tainted everywhere he looked...
"STILES!!! Pizza's here come and eat!"
Stiles looked up as his father called from downstairs, quickly swallowing down the recent burst of raw negative emotions.
Stiles raised his voice and called out, "Okay dad, I'll be down in a minute", he answered.
Hastily he shoved the crumpled paper in his pocket and went into the bathroom across the hall and washed the ink off from his hands, well he tried to, but no matter how much he scrubbed, the ink remained staining his skin weakly.
"Damn it!" The ink only coming off partly, "Well this sucks", he muttered giving up and reaching for a towel, and drying his hands.
He tossed the used towel into his overflowing laundry basket and did a quick onceover seeing nothing amiss to worry his father; Stiles moved to exit his room and went downstairs.
Had he stopped to check properly he would have noticed that the poem he'd written on the now scrunched up paper slipped out of his pocket and fell to the floor, landing neatly in the middle of his room, almost like a reflection of how his heart looked.
Walking into the kitchen sitting where his drink was already made up for him, his dad right across from him, he had no idea of the person in his room, picking up the paper and staring at its contents in both awe and regret.
*
"Got your favourite kiddo, let's eat", he stated quietly.
Stiles inwardly winced at the polite tone, that was a slowly becoming a thing with his dad lately. The man had been either making or getting Stiles' favourite food and things. Truth be told Stiles hated it.
He deeply hated himself as he took in the weak smile and bags under his eyes on his father's face.
No doubt from all the paperwork and daily chores and to top it off cooking when he's home, Stile sucked, and he knew it to boot; he recognised the regret and the guilt. The same expressions he'd tried to hide every time he struggled to meet his own reflection.
Before the Nogitsune he'd always made it his top priority to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for his dad, knowing how his father probably tried to sneak a cheeseburger and curly fries at the station or eat something else worse, junk food and trans-fat snacks.
Granted the man may be a grown man but he sure as hell never ate like one.
"You okay kiddo?"
Stiles looked up wary at the worry laced in his words looking up he could see it imprinted into his eyes;
'Damn it Stiles pull it together'.
"Yeah dad just tired", he answered weakly, reaching for a slice and shoving a huge bite hoping his dad would believe him, which must have been enough because they continued eating in silence.
The sheriff ended up getting called in not long after they had dinner, as the man stood up and moved to place his plate in the sink, when his phone rang, sighing he picked up the call and listened for a few seconds before shaking his head;
"Jordan how serious is it? Is it something you guys can handle, or are we thinking something more, more", he stressed deliberately.
Jordan probably answered something, and the sheriff huffed, "That's child's play, why are you calling?" he asked almost shamefully.
Stiles exhaled and reached him in two steps, snatching the phone from he kept enough space between them so his dad wouldn't get the phone, "Hey Deputy Parrish it's me? Yeah he's here. No everything's fine. He'll be there, he should be there in 10 minutes, uh huh... yeah, bye. Be safe", he said and promptly hung up the phone, handing him the phone he sighed, "Hurry you don't wanna be late", he advised him.
The sheriff grabbed the phone angrily, upset he started, "Stiles why—"
"I'll be fine dad I'll call someone from the pack and see if there free the night I won't be alone. I promise", he said, "So, go and help your deputies. They need you too dad", he stated softly.
Caught off guard seemingly and lost for words his dad, nodded and pulled him in for a hug, he pat him gently on the head like he used to, when Stiles was still a child, and he left for work.
Stiles coaxed him out with reassurances, as he shut the front door. Exhaling Stiles nodded once and then moved to head upstairs to call whoever was free, or who would even want to come over. The pack had been oddly distant, not that it was remotely odd at this point. Stiles had started making a tally sheet, for who came up with the most outlandish excuses. It left him feeling bitter and weary, so of course he would make the call to make his father happy, but he would do so grudgingly of course.
As he reached his room, he opened the door, entered, covered the bare space between door and bed, fell onto the surface, bed mind wandering in and out of consciousness as he tried prolonging the inevitable.
'Tomorrow... I'll do all the chores and the cooking. I can't rely on dad anymore he's got enough on his hands; I'm putting his health in risk with me letting the after effects of the Nogitsune get to me.
Letting out a frustrated breath he reached for his phone, "Might as well get it over with", he grumbled.
"Get what over with? You really shouldn't talk out loud people might think you're stranger than usual", a voice stated. A very familiar annoying voice, belong to a very impertinent guest taking refuge in his room.
'Damn sassy-wolf!'
"I heard that", the wolf retorted.
"No you didn't", Stiles huffed and rolling on to his side to face the lone wolf, "Why are you here Peter? And why come back to this hellhole?" he asked yawning even as he said it.
Truth be told Stiles was happy to see Peter he was the only who didn't have that look of pity in his eyes when it came to Stiles, let it be about being human of the pack, kidnapped, tortured, or recently possessed.
Peter had always treated Stiles the same even when the pack thought it was rude, truth was it made him always feel better 'cause he Peter wouldn't treat him like glass that's probably why Stiles always l—,
"Sti..."
"Stiles..."
"STILES!!"
Stiles looked up, Startled from his thoughts of the man, only to see said wolf hovering over him ridiculously close, "Huh?" he uttered ineloquent blinked staring at him in wariness.
"Welcome back to reality, now would you be as kind as to tell me what you meant earlier and I might just answer your questions", he sassed
Sighing in defeat because God knows what kind of hell it was likely to cause, if he tried to escape from a curious Peter Hale—he'd rather avoid the mess that would garner.
"My dad's just worried after the last supernatural so he doesn't want me alone I promised I'd call someone in the pack to see if anyone was free and stay the night that's pretty much it, now answer my question. Because I didn't pull some all nighters' to hack out and erase your criminal records to be a free man, so you could go wherever in the world, just for you to come back here. So why?" he demanded angrily.
"Derek called; he told me what happened, after I was ordered to leave. Stupidly redundant if you think about it now, I was willing to help, and they told me to leave it seems you're only proving your point of what a loyal fool you are to a kingdom that looks down at you with either pity or laughter", he stated sounding frustrated.
"Peter what—"
"I saw the paper Stiles, As I am your fool, your Court Jester!"
Stiles flinched and then began to cry, Peter huffed, "Stiles if you're going to be a fool then I will be one too. I will be your loyal fool as we let his kind and this kingdom fall, as they laugh and pity us", he remarked softly.
Stiles' eyes snapped open ay that vow, Peter's eyes flared an iridescent glow like cold blue flames of scorching fury that couldn't be doused simply with water.
"Then it seems I am your loyal fool too. I promise this time I will make it the last time they laugh at us, the last time they dare hold pity in their eyes as they gaze upon us", he vowed in return.
Hooking his arms around Peters neck, the wolf cradling him close, they sealed the promise with a searing kiss that spelled of promise and victory.