A place for those who like the ship Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski from the show Teen Wolf.
soulmates au ficlet [pt4]
Christopher Argent knocks on the door that same afternoon, after Peter and Stiles have left the bookshop and returned to the Stilinski home.
Peter can't move in right away - he'll need to do a bit of shopping for bedsheets and blankets and food and toiletries at the very least, and Stiles lends him his laptop and phone so that Peter can get started on... persuading a few old contacts to put together some identifaction papers and a paper trail for him to explain his lack of scars once he officially reappears in Beacon Hills. Part of this town knows he was dead, mostly because they killed him, and the rest probably think he is too - if only because mysteriously missing coma patients don't usually mean good things, it usually means someone's going to get sued - but none of them have actual proof, so if he can spin some fanciful story about misplaced paperwork and a miraculous recovery in a hospital across the country, nobody's going to question it. People don't come back from the dead after all.
He's calculating how large a budget he's going to need when he hears a car coming up the street. Now normally, that wouldn't concern him overly much. No hunter worth a damn would make that much noise if they were out to kill a werewolf. But Peter's also - rightfully - paranoid at this point in his life, his senses that much more honed even when he isn't actively using them, which is why he picks up the scent of wolfsbane beneath gasoline, lingering in a way that spoke of someone who's handled the stuff for far too long to ever get rid of it entirely no matter how many times they wash their hands or clothes.
Then he smells Argent, and he's on his feet and down the stairs before the car even gets within two houses of them.
He's waiting at the front door as Chris parks by the curb and gets out of the car. The hunter's spotted him too, and his whole frame is tense like he wants nothing more than to either shoot Peter or get back in the car and drive away. He does neither and walks up the drive instead. Peter's certain he has at least one gun and a couple knives on him.
"Christopher," Peter greets in deceptively light tones. "Did you take a wrong turn? The cemetery is six blocks down that way."
Chris shoots him a narrow-eyed look but doesn't otherwise react. "What are you doing here, Peter? This is Stiles' house."
"I could ask you the same thing," Peter retorts coolly. The nails of the hand he's holding open the door with curls into claws out of sight. "You have no business here, Argent."
Chris doesn't back down an inch. If only he had as much spine when it came to his father.
"I know he isn't... well." The hunter says stiffly, eyes flickering past Peter's shoulder, then back. "Allison told me." Because of course, the whole town knows about Stiles' soulbond. "I wasn't sure if Scott-" There's a tiny disapproving curl at the end of the name that almost goes by unnoticed. "-contacted him after last night so I came by to check."
Peter is hard-pressed not to roll his eyes. "It's been an entire night and half a day. You're a little late. If someone was going to kill him, he'd be long dead by now."
Chris finally slants a glare at him. "Are you using yourself as an example? What are you doing here, Hale?"
"That," Peter growls around a thin smile. "Is none of your business. Stiles is fine. You can leave now."
Chris opens his mouth, clearly about to object, but there's a heartbeat coming down the stairs already, and Peter starts debating the merits of simply shutting the door in the hunter's face.
"You-" is all Chris gets out before Stiles is there, rubbing sleep from his eyes, hair mussed from the nap he was taking earlier. Then his gaze lands on the hunter at his door, and his shoulders jerk, like his body's immediate reflex is torn between running away and standing his ground. His scent floods with anxiety and sours with fear, and Peter can't hold back the snarl that tears itself from his throat in response.
Stiles doesn't even bat an eye in Peter's direction but he flinches back when Chris takes a step forward, and Peter starts wondering if he can get away with murdering another Argent.
(He could. He really, really could. It isn't as if anyone would miss the hunter anyway except for that darling daughter of his, and who cares about her? Besides Scott, but Scott doesn't count. Last Peter checked, the girl tried to kill them all. So she can't complain if people try to kill her back. Or in this case, kill someone she cares about. Fair's fair.)
"Leave, Argent!" Peter snaps instead, stepping sideways to bodily put himself in front of Stiles. "You've already overstayed your welcome."
Chris... isn't even looking at him anymore. Or Stiles for that matter. Instead, his eyes are glued to Peter's arm, the one attached to the hand that he's braced against the doorframe, the one that carries his soulmark. And his sleeve has slid down just enough to reveal part of it.
If Peter had any doubts about Chris being one of the hunters who at least knew about if not participated in Stiles' torture session at Gerard's hands yesterday - Chris, admittedly, isn't the type, at least when it comes to human children - even after Stiles' reaction a few seconds ago, they're all gone now because that is definitely recognition on Chris' face.
Peter watches impassively as Chris pales two shades, gaze darting between him and Stiles with a horrified sort of dawning realization, and then he closes his eyes, just for a moment, and Peter wonders what it feels like to be related to people who have ruined so many lives just for their own sick pleasure. Wonders what it feels like to know you've turned a blind eye to what your family did - to what your family was - for so many years. Maybe Chris never had any proof, but there's no way he's so stupid or oblivious that he didn't notice anything either. Even if he missed Kate, nobody could miss Gerard.
Peter hopes the guilt fucking hurts. Chris was a spineless coward even when they were teenagers, and clearly, that hasn't changed a bit. Couldn't even control his own daughter, who might be female but was and is certainly no matriarch.
"Leave, Argent," Peter says one last time, staring Chris dead in the eye when the hunter looks like he wants to say something, possibly to Stiles. "If I see you or your daughter anywhere around Stiles again, I'll end your family line myself. Trust me, it would be my pleasure."
And with that said, he goes through with his previous urge and slams the door in the hunter's face. He doesn't move until he hears the rev of the car fade away down the street.
Then he turns to Stiles, just in time to see the way Stiles' hand hovers about an inch from Peter's shirt. The boy quickly snatches his hand back, rubbing at the scarred soulmark on his arm instead, but his scent eases a little, no longer as scared.
"Did he ever do anything to you?" Peter asks with a calmness that belies the simmering rage underneath. He doesn't think Chris would go that far but... "Did he help Gerard hurt you? Or even kidnap you?"
Stiles shudders but shakes his head. Peter allows himself to relax, if marginally. Then Chris only knew about it. And Stiles probably saw or at least heard him nearby during his abduction. He knew that Chris knew and still didn't do anything to help him, which made the hunter just as much the enemy as Gerard.
Peter can get behind that logic. He wants to sink his claws into the hunter for that alone.
Then he almost does a double-take when Stiles opens his mouth and croaks out a rusty, "Stay- Stay away from him."
Peter stares. He stares for so long Stiles' cheeks go pink and he takes a step back, ducking his head and seeming to shrink into himself, which quickly prompts Peter to give his brain a mental slap and then try very hard not to break out into a pathetically wide smile.
"I have no plans to spend any more time than necessary in any Argent's vicinity, Stiles," He assures, catching Stiles' eye when the boy glances up at him.
Stiles says nothing for a long moment, and Peter thinks Stiles' quota of words for the month is up, but then his soulmate licks his lips, swallows, and then mumbles, "You can't... get burned again."
This time, it's Peter's turn to fall silent, gaze falling to the soulmark on Stiles' arm.
"I won't," He says at last, voice rough despite how softly his words come out. His fingers itch to touch, to provide comfort. "I won't, sweetheart."
Stiles stares for several drawn-out seconds more before his gaze drops and he nods at the floor. Then he turns and shuffles back towards the stairs. Peter lingers to make sure the door is locked, keeping one ear on Stiles' heartbeat as it moves into the bedroom and settles on the bed again.
When he makes his way back up as well, he finds Stiles curled up under the blankets once more, except he's lying on his side right next to where Peter was sitting earlier instead of on the opposite side of the bed.
Peter pauses, then carefully makes his way over and eases onto the bed as well. He leans back against the headboard again and fetches the laptop from the nightstand. His thigh brushes Stiles' blanket-covered back.
Stiles doesn't move, and the muscles in his back relax in increments.
This time, Peter really does smile.
[Part 5]




WHAT IF - Chris shares a soulmark with Stiles too? Maybe a separate one from Peter's? And Peter doesn't know that Stiles has a second soulmark. Lolz, I totally didn't intend it to go this way, and it probably won't, but I wrote this and then I reread it, and is it just me or does this give off Stiles-has-two-soulmates vibes?
Glad for another update, thanks! I like just Peter and Stiles, but if your mind wants to go poly, then it does!
I definitely prefer just Steter too but ugh it would be such a chaotic mess if Chris was added into the equation.