Chapter Text
Peter could smell the misery before he heard the heartbeat.
He resisted, waiting for the scratching at the door before he went to open it. Even with the despair, Peter was startled at the sight of Stiles. His eyes were red, hair awry, t-shirt hanging off one shoulder.
"Peter..." Stiles hiccuped. "I... I didn't know where else to go."
"What's wrong?" Peter asked. "Are you hurt?" He leaned closer, to see if there was anything he missed. He couldn't smell any blood.
"Whoa," Stiles put a hand on Peter's chest. "Personal space!"
Not realizing he had gotten so close, Peter stepped back and allowed Stiles into his apartment. Peter guided Stiles to the kitchen and sat him in a chair. He got a glass of water and handed it to Stiles.
"Drink, if nothing else," Peter said. "Do you want something to eat?"
"I..." Stiles seemed lost, rubbing his chest. "I guess so?"
"When is the last time you ate?" Peter asked, going for practical.
Stiles paused to think.
"Food coming up," Peter declared without waiting for an answer. He quickly had soup and a buttered slab of hearty multi-grain bread in front of Stiles. "Eat."
Peter waited patiently as Stiles ate the soup and nibbled at the bread.
"More?" Peter asked.
Stiles shook his head. He rubbed his chest again. Unconsciously. As if something inside hurt.
"Talk to me," Peter said gently.
Another waft of misery.
"There was a Pack meeting tonight," Stiles said.
"It didn't seem important," Peter shrugged. "Which is why I stayed away." A fleeting thought that came and went immediately, something made him not want to go... He shook his head and focused on Stiles.
"Probably a good thing," Stiles almost-grinned. "I lay into Scott for assuming he could use Derek's loft without asking but Scott ignored me, as always."
Peter held back a growl. Scott had turned out to be very good at taking advantage of Derek's eagerness to be part of a Pack. He knew Derek missed the close relationship he had with his family when he was younger and Scott gave Derek the illusion of that closeness. Peter could see the calculation in Scott's behavior that Derek either did not see or chose to ignore.
"Who was there?" Peter asked.
Stiles rubbed his chest again. "Everyone." He frowned. "Even some people I didn't know, actually."
That was concerning. "'New wolves?" Was Scott giving the Bite out indiscriminately? That would not be good.
Stiles tilted his head in consideration. "Maybe? One or two. But about six humans. I kind of assumed they were family that has been read in. Now? I don't know."
"What else?" Peter asked gently.
"My dad. Melissa. Deaton." Stiles spat the last name. "But, interestingly enough, not Kira."
"What happened?" Peter prodded as Stiles hesitated.
"Scott stood in the middle of the room and seemed to check to see that everyone was watching. He thanked everyone for coming and said that it was time for a task that was long overdue." Stiles laughed hollowly. "Scott walked over and stood in front of me. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my chest." Stiles blinked rapidly and rubbed his chest. "Scott got a look on his face that I've seen a lot. He's memorized something that he doesn't quite understand. Like for a class presentation."
Peter nodded, not wanting to interrupt.
"Scott said, I do this out of love for you. You are my brother and my friend but you are human, a liability that this pack cannot afford. It is with sadness that I am removing you from this Pack. Páre to makriá sou."
Stiles was panting at this point. "Scott lifted his hand from my chest and a thread of something stretched between us and then broke."
Peter felt his heart clench.
"Then Scott said that now that I am no longer a member of the Pack that I could leave so they could have their meeting," Stiles was silently weeping.
"Oh, sweet boy," Peter said softly. He moved closer and wrapped his arms about Stiles. Stiles fought him for a moment and then collapsed in Peter's arms. Peter lifted Stiles up and took him to the couch in the living room. He wanted to keep Stiles in his lap but settled for setting Stiles next to him.
"What did your dad say?" Peter had to ask.
"Nothing!" Stiles sobbed. "They wouldn't talk to me. I tried to talk to them and Scott pushed me out the door."
Peter let Stiles cry, knowing the pain the boy -- young man -- was feeling.
The small ritual Scott completed was actually half of the full ritual. The first part, that Scott performed was roughly translated as I take this from you, where the Alpha takes the Pack bond from a normally willing member of the Pack. The important part was having a second Alpha available to perform the ritual sou díno aftó which translated to I give you this. The full ritual was used to transfer a Pack member from one Pack to another. Even if the Alphas were not in close proximity, the Pack member was mentally and physically prepared for the transfer and would know a new Pack bond was coming. It allowed the Pack member to be prepared for the loss of the bond and to maintain their stability while they were between bonds.
Since Scott took the Pack bond away from Stiles without preparation and without another Alpha willing to take Stiles in as a Pack member, Stiles was feeling the painful loss of a Pack bond. Which explained why Stiles unconsciously rubbed at his chest.
It was a feeling Peter was familiar with. He still had an ache in his chest where Laura had ripped away the bonds from him, using brute force, as she left Beacon Hills with Derek. There was a small family bond between himself and Derek, one of the things that kept Peter sane.
"Scott broke your Pack bond," Peter said. "You're feeling the broken bond at this point."
"What makes it go away?" Stiles asked.
"Another Pack bond," Peter admitted.
Stiles snorted.
That was a relatively decent sign, Peter thought. A broken Pack Bond, even with The Failure, could be debilitating. Stiles was stronger than that and Peter wanted to help him through it.
"We could leave Beacon Hills," Peter proposed. "Leave this rag-tag pack and its failure of an Alpha behind."
"Where would we go?" Stiles asked.
Peter was pleased at the we. He had hoped but had not been certain.
"Anywhere you want," Peter said.
Stiles fiddled with a loose thread on his jeans for a moment. "I have a scholarship to Boston University. It seemed so far and it's not a full scholarship, so I haven't replied to them. I could take that..."
"You can go anywhere you want," Peter said. "But we could go to Boston and check it out." In a bit of serendipity, Boston would give Peter access to another option.
Stiles nodded. "I'd... I'd like that."
"What do you need from your house?" Peter asked, being practical. He knew giving Stiles something else to focus on would be best.
"I have a lot of things packed already," Stiles admitted. "I was going to go somewhere, just not sure where. So I have my identification papers -- passport, birth certificate, bank information -- and important things already sorted. I just need some clothes and my computer."
"We can work on clothes," Peter said. His 'wolf had an urge to see Stiles in better clothes. The flannel hid so much and while his 'wolf appreciated the art of being underestimated, Stiles needed a better wardrobe.
Stiles poked Peter in the ribs. "I do fine," he protested.
Peter let that one go, it wasn't important. "When could you leave?"
Stiles shrugged. "Dad works a double, overnight tonight and into tomorrow afternoon." He frowned in thought. "He'll come home and sleep and then go back to work the next morning." A shrug. "He won't know if I'm there or not."
"I need to make a few arrangements," Peter decided. "We could leave the day after tomorrow. That will give you time to let you pack up anything you think you need."
"How... how will we travel?" Stiles asked.
"Fly," Peter said firmly. "At this point, you have to assume anything you leave behind may be lost to you. Your father I would trust but Scott I do not. Bring everything you want to keep here and I'll have it shipped out to us."
"I... I don't know what to say," Stiles said.
Peter did notice that Stiles did not protest the idea that Scott would tamper with his belongings.
"I'm not an Alpha but we can be our own Pack," Peter said.
There was a small flash of light between them. Not a full Bond but a connection between them. Peter was surprised but kept that to himself.
Stiles rubbed his chest. "It's not gone but... it feels better."
"Good, then," Peter nodded. "Don't think too much or get into one of your spirals. In fact, don't stay at the house, come here."
Stiles nodded. "That... that would be better."
"What do you need now?" Peter asked. "More food or sleep?"
"More food," Stiles admitted. "I was going to eat at the Pack meeting and, obviously, didn't get to."
"It won't be fancy, but I make a mean sandwich," Peter said. "In fact, come with me." Peter stood and took Stiles' hand. He led Stiles to the guest bedroom. "Take a hot shower, I'll leave you some sleeping pants and then you can eat. You'll feel better."
Stiles looked at the pristine bedroom. Peter knew it was devoid of personality but, well, it was a guest bedroom. And he was not going to admit he never had guests.
"You can spend the night here," Peter promised. "I'm across the hall."
Stiles nodded. "Thanks."
Peter got the sleep pants, left them on the bed and went to the kitchen to make the promised sandwich. While he was there, he went through the food on hand, deciding what to use up tomorrow and what might need to be discarded. He didn't plan to be back in Beacon Hills for a long time.
He'd pay a service to clean up after them and take care of the apartment.
Stiles came back looking, and smelling, better. He pushed the plate toward Stiles. "Eat up."
After the first bite, Stiles evidently realized how hungry he was. He devoured the two sandwiches and the chips Peter had put on a plate.
"Better?" Peter asked.
Stiles nodded. "Thanks. I guess I needed that."
"Having a Pack Bond torn away is a major trauma," Peter said gently. "Do not discount that. You'll sleep heavily tonight but I'll get you up so you can get to your house while your dad is still out."
Stiles drew abstractly in the moisture left by the glass of ice water. "I can tell him I decided to take BU up on their offer and that they had a summer session available. He won't question that."
Peter nodded. "Good thinking. We don't want you to simply disappear but letting your dad know more-or-less where you are will be good."
"What... what about Derek?" Stiles asked.
"I'll let him know I'm going out of town for a while," Peter said. "He is used to me coming and going, so that won't be suspicious. I'll decide what to tell him later, depending on what kind of questions he asks."
"Okay," Stiles nodded.
"Is there anyone else that you need to talk to?" Peter asked.
Stiles shook his head. "Lydia's already gone to MIT for their summer session. I can text her once we settle somewhere."
"No one else?" Peter asked gently.
Stiles shook his head. The misery started to waft from the boy.
"Okay, you need to sleep," Peter said brusquely. "Will you be able to fall asleep on your own or do you need something?"
Stiles shook his head. "I should be okay." He hesitated.
"What is it?" Peter asked.
"I... I don't always sleep well," Stiles admitted. "So, well, if I shut the door, you can just ignore me."
"Nonsense," Peter declared. "You can come and talk to me, or if it's a nightmare, I certainly can wake you. You can't harm me."
"I... thank you," Stiles said softly.
Peter made a mental note to see about some therapy for Stiles. He had been through a lot over the past couple of years and likely needed someone to help him with all of that. Some of that trauma would surface in the form of poor sleep.
Luckily, Stiles' sleep that night was uninterrupted but that could be attributed to the trauma of the broken Pack Bond. Peter went out for fresh pastries before Stiles woke. Once he heard Stiles moving around, he made omelets, using some of the vegetables that would otherwise go to waste.
"This is good," Stiles said as he inhaled the omelet and pastry.
He waited for Stiles to finish eating. "There's an available parking space in the garage under the building, if you want to leave your Jeep there." Peter knew the sentimental attachment Stiles had to the vehicle.
Stiles nodded. "I'm not ready to give it up, but, well, it needs a lot of work, so that would be good."
"You can see what you can put into the Jeep and bring it over," Peter replied. He slid an envelope over to Stiles. "Key fob for the garage and the parking space number is on the envelope. I'll let building security know you are coming. Key for the apartment, in case I'm not here when you get back. And there's money to buy anything you might need."
"Peter!"
"You know perfectly well I'm good for it," Peter said firmly. "You'll need to replace some things since you'll be leaving sooner than you had planned. We will talk more about finances when we've settled in Boston."
"I..." Stiles took a breath. "Thank you."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
Stiles shook his head. "No," he decided. "And if someone sees me, I don't want to have to argue about what I'm doing."
"Too true," Peter replied. He avoided the Pack for a wide variety of reasons, Scott's overt dislike being the primary one. But the rest of the Pack followed Scott's lead and there was some ongoing harassment whenever Peter went anywhere in town. "Although if someone does try to stop you, remind them that you are not in the Pack and they have no say in your life."
Stiles rubbed his chest and took a deep breath. "Yeah. Okay, I can do that."
"Go and do what you need," Peter said briskly. "I have some of my own work to do."
Stiles gave a quick grin as he picked up his dishes and put them on the counter near the sink.
"See you later!" Stiles said as he left the apartment.
Peter went back to the bedroom he used as an office and spent time making arrangements for the apartment to be taken care of while he was gone. He reached out to some contacts on the East Coast for their contacts in Boston. He and Stiles could spend a few days in a hotel but the sooner they had an apartment, the sooner they could settle in.