Chapter Text
For the first five year of his life, Stiles had the perfect life, the perfect family. He had a mother and father who loved him more then anything, he always had everything he needed and sometime more.
His mother stayed at home with him, took care of him, played with him. He would always help her cook dinner for his father and sometimes if he was lucky, they would even bake cookies for after dinner.
It was just after his fifth birthday that everything had taken a turn for the worst. His father was the Beacon Hills Sheriff and they were dispatched to the Beacon Hills bank. A group of men had taken it over and were threatening to kill hostages if their demands hadn't been met.
Being the Sheriff and the brave man that everyone knew that he was, he offered himself up as a trade for a few hostages and the men had agreed. Before all their demands could be given to them however, one gunshot rang throughout the small town, and in the blink of an eye, Stiles world had changed forever.
At first, things seemed like they would be alright, even with his father gone. In that first year, not much had changed. Yes his mother had smiled less, but she still took care of everything, still seemed like the perfect mother.
After the first year though, it seemed as though his mother was pretending more and more to be happy, and to be that perfect mother. His sixth birthday had come and gone and the house started to fall apart more and more with each passing day.
It was four months after his birthday that his mother had her first drink and nothing would ever be the same again.
At first it was only little things, she wouldn't clean the house anymore, or cook. So six year old Stiles did the cleaning and the cooking and he really didn't mind all that much. His mother had taken such good care of him, even after his father had passed away, that he thought it was his turn to take care of her.
His mother hung the moon, there wasn't anyone in the world that he loved more then her. By his seventh birthday, things had drastically changed. His mother stopped going to work and even though they received monthly checks from his father's pension, it wasn't enough to keep the house.
So they ended up moving across town, into a two bedroom apartment, that fell apart more and more with each passing day. Melissa, his best friend's mother had tried to help as much as she could, but she was a single mother herself and there was only so much she could do.
It was two weeks before his eighth birthday when his mother hit him for the first time. He was making dinner and dropped a plate, smashing it to pieces. He was just standing up from sweeping it, when he bumped into his mother.
He turned around to apologize when he was back handed across the face, sending him tumbling to the floor and the glass flying everywhere. "I'm so sick of your clumsy ass, can't you go ten minutes without breaking something else of mine?" she yelled out at him.
Tears were spilling over his face when he looked up at her and saw the hatred in her eyes, starring back at him. "I'm sor-sorry momma, it slipped out of my hands." he stuttered out to her.
She rolled her eyes at him and then looked around the almost clean kitchen, an evil grin starting to form. "This kitchen looks like shit, you call this fucking place clean?" she yelled at him, walking about the kitchen and throwing things all over the place.
She went as far as dumping the garbage bag full of garbage all over the kitchen floor. She walked up to him and smacked him again and then shoving him hard to the ground. "I want this kitchen spotless, I want this fucking place to shine! If it isn't done to my liking, you'll do over and over again until it's done." she told him before retreating back into the living room.
Stiles had cleaned the kitchen several times that night, and been hit even more.
After her first outburst, nothing was the same. She would always strike him when she thought he deserved it, which was multiple times a day. She was smart though, she knew not to hit him where it would be visible. Remarkably, she started to work again, getting a job at the Sheriff's station at the front desk.
To the outside world, she again seemed like the perfect mother. With the years that followed, she began to think up sick little games she could play to cause Stiles pain and with each one, they became worse and worse.
The one he hated most, was when she filled a bucket with a variety of different cleaners, shoved Stiles in the bathroom with it and made him scrub the whole thing down with his bare hands.
At first, after he'd been done cleaning, he spend the rest of the time locked in there in front of the air vent. To soon though his mother caught on and taped it up before putting him in there. He was barely conscious by the time he was let out, and his skin was always rubbed raw, as if the cleaning products were burning his skin completely off.
When he turned twelve, she started using food against him as well. He wasn't aloud to take anything to school for lunch and she didn't give him any money either. If he didn't finish his chores on time in the morning, he wasn't aloud to have breakfast. Which most days he did without breakfast or lunch.
The only dinner he was aloud to eat, was the scraps off his mother's plate every night. So if she finished everything that day, he went to bed without supper. Sometimes he would sneak out of bed at night and dig in the kitchen can, pulling out any left over meat his mother had thrown away from dinner and scarfing it down as fast as he could.
It wasn't long before his mother found out about it though and started taking all the leftovers to the old lady next door, making sure Stiles had nothing left to pick from.
It wasn't until he was sixteen that his life changed drastically, and that was when his best friend was bitten by a werewolf and the whole town was turned upside down. The pack that had passed through, brought back the famous Hales, whose house had burnt down many, many years ago with most of the family inside. The only ones that were left, was Peter, Derek and Cora.
After taking care of the pack that had bitten Scott, they turned a few more teenagers who'd wanted the bite and formed their own little pack again, or family if you will. Even though Stiles didn't want the bite, at least not yet anyway, he was very smart and helped them out with a lot of their research.
Scott walked into Derek's loft one night, groaning as he fell to the couch next to Stiles. "Dude, you're lucky your mom is so cool, mine is driving me nuts." Stiles rolled his eyes, "Why is she driving you nuts?" he asked, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice.
"She won't let me go out with Allison tomorrow night. She said I'm not aloud to do anything until I get my stupid grades up." he bitched out and Stiles snorted. "Maybe if you actually studied or something you wouldn't have that problem." he told Scott, finishing another math problem.
Scott rolled his eyes, "Not all of us can be as smart as you dude. I don't know how you do it, it's all so fucking boring." Stiles shook his head as he continued to work. After a few minutes of silence, Scott opened his mouth again.
"Hey, you think if I told my mom you were helping me with school, that your mom would let me stay the weekend? I haven't been to your house in years man." Scott said to him, making him tense up.
He quickly recovered though, looking over at his best friend. "I told you, my mom doesn't like anyone at the apartment. I'll see if I can come stay at your house though, if you want." Stiles told him and Scott shook his head.
Stiles was hoping that Scott would say yes to him coming over. It had been so long since he received more then a day break from his mother and he needed one badly. "Nah man, then I would have to actually do work. Besides, I'm sure your mom wants to spend the weekend with you since it's her only time off." he said with a smile, getting to his feet and walking into the kitchen.
Stiles sighed, letting the disappointment and fear wash over him. He hated the weekends with his mother. She had a whole two days to torture him and play her sick little games.
He desperately wished someone would notice, would smell the things coming off of him or smell the burning stench of his skin. He knew that werewolves had strong senses but he guessed that no one cared enough about him to notice.
He was wrong though, Peter had started noticing little things here and there with Stiles. Like right now, he could smell all the feelings coming off of the boy, and he wondered why he was feeling like this. Peter had recently discovered that Stiles was his mate, but he didn't know how to handle it.
Stiles was on sixteen and he's just turned thirty two. His sister had told him once that age didn't really matter that much in their life but it still made him feel bad, considering Stiles wasn't a wolf.
Hell, he didn't even know if the kid liked girls or boys, let alone if he'd even go for someone as old as himself. He made the choice to follow the boy home that night and at first nothing really seemed that off.
Stiles set about doing some chores around the house and making dinner before his mother returned home.
He was about to leave when Stiles mother pulled in the drive way and decided to stick around, maybe stiles was just fighting with his mom or something. He quickly found out that it was way more then that though.
"I told you to have this fucking house spotless by the time I returned home. This place looks like a pig pen!" she screamed out at him. "Mom, I cleaned every room, I swear to I did. Please let me eat tonight, I haven't eaten in days and I'm so hungry." Stiles pleaded but all his mother did was laugh.
"I'm not fucking feeding an ungrateful little shit like you. In fact, you can sit at the table and watch me eat tonight. And maybe if you don't fuck anything up between the time I start and finish, I might let you lick my plate." she told him, smile spread across her face.
Peter was appalled and anger flooded through him like waves from the ocean. How could someone treat their child so horribly. Stiles's mother was a respected member of this town, he didn't think in a million years she could be treating Stiles the way she was.
He knew that he had to get him away from this life, he just wasn't sure about how to go about it. First thing he was going to do though, was run into McDonalds and grab a bunch of food. He would wait until his mother fell asleep that night and the sneak in and confront the boy.
Thankfully his mother never stayed up to late and by ten she was fast asleep. She had taken some sleeping pills with a few swigs of Vodka and was dead to the world.
Peter scaled the side of the house, and gently tapped on Stiles's bedroom window. Stiles hurried over, throwing it up. "Peter, you can't be here, please you need to leave." he whispered out, fear pouring from him.
Peter shook his head, "Your mother is fast asleep and I'll be able to tell if she starts to wake up, I promise." he tells him, and Stiles nods as he backs away to let him through. Once inside, Peter throws the book bag he's carrying at Stiles and the boy looks at him funny.
"There's tons of food in there, sit down and eat it and don't argue with me." Peter tells him and the color drains from his face. "H-how did you find out, you can't tell anyone Peter, please you have to promise me." Stiles pleaded, tears starting to form and spilled down his cheeks.
Peter rushed to him, taking the boy in his arms and hugging him tightly. "I won't tell anyone as long as that's what you want. I noticed your scents were off tonight so I followed you home and I heard everything. I don't know if there is anything else going on here but I'm sure there is. You don't have to tell me though, not until you're ready. I just wanted you to know that you have someone here for you, someone who you can talk to about this and so that you knew that you weren't alone."
It takes Stiles a few minutes to calm down. It's then he remembers about the food and tears the book bag open and starts stuffing food in his mouth. "Stiles, you have to slow down. You haven't eaten in a few days, you'll make yourself sick." Peter tells him, and Stiles nods as he finishes the bite in his mouth and swallows, then takes a drink.
He eats much slower then, taking tiny bites and it isn't long before he starts getting pains in his stomach and pushes the food away. "You have to try and eat some more, that fact that you're hurting means there's already damage done and that's not good. I'm going to come back tomorrow night with a bunch of protein bars and drinks, will you be able to hide them well enough that she won't find them?" Peter asks and Stiles nods his head.
"She never really comes in here, she just locks my door before bed and unlocks it in the morning." he mumbles out, laying back in his bed, wrapping his arms around his pillow.
"She wasn't always like this you know, everything was great until my father passed away. He used to be the Sheriff and when I was five, he was killed during a bank robbery. Everything was fine though right after. She stopped cooking and cleaning but it wasn't that bad. I did it all and I even felt proud of myself for being able to take such good care of her. I promised my dad at his funeral, I told him that no matter what I would always take car of her." Stiles told him, more tears forming and spilling over.
"Stiles, it's not your job to put up with all of this. Sometimes you can't take care of someone all by yourself. Your mother needs help, she needs medicine or something but you don't deserve this, and your father is probably rolling around in his grave right now at the way she's treating you." Peter tells him, moving to sit next to Stiles.
Stiles nods his head, "I know that, but I don't know what to do. Everyone things she's so perfect and I don't think anyone would believe me. Yes, I do have marks on me from her hitting me and doing way worse things but I don't want anyone to know about them. I don't want anyone to know how weak I am, and how damaged I am." he cries out, hiding his face in his pillow.
Peter gently pushed his head to he's looking up at him. "You're not weak, not in the slightest. Not many people could put up with this as long as you have. Not many people would have made it alive, you lived Stiles and you fought and you're still fighting. That makes you so strong and come hell or high water I'm going to make you see that." Peter tells him and Stiles gives him a tiny smile.
Peter things that it's time for him to leave, he wants Stiles to get some sleep. He pulls his hand away from Stiles and goes to stand but Stiles is gripping his wrist. "Please Peter, please don't go. Will you stay with me tonight, please?" he whispers out, and Peter nods his head.
He walks around the bed, toes his shoes off and slides in under the covers. Stiles turns to face him and burrows himself under his arm and curls into the man's side. Peter gently rubs circles into his back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and soon they are both fast asleep.