Chapter Text
"Stiles?"
Stiles stopped, stunned as he recognized the voice. One he knew well but hadn't heard in person in almost ten years. He turned.
"ZombieWolf!" Stiles greeted Peter Hale.
Peter winced a bit at the nickname but then smiled when Stiles moved closer. Stiles moved in for a warm hug and scented Peter, accepting Peter's scenting.
"You're looking good. What are you doing here?" Stiles asked. Peter hadn't aged as far as Stiles could see, but that also was related to 'wolf genetics. Unless there was something else going on, most 'wolves don't start to look appreciably older until their sixties.
Peter looked good. He wore an expensive looking suit with what Stiles thought of as his 'trademark' v-neck sweater. Cashmere, if Stiles wasn't mistaken. It was soft, he knew, from his quick hug.
Here was New York City, specifically the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria hotel.
"You left me a message and asked me to meet you here," Peter frowned, obviously confused.
"Oh, fuck," Stiles breathed. He tamped down a spike of panic. "Okay, let's go. Now!"
Stiles was glad that Peter didn't ask any questions but followed him to the taxi stand. Stiles told the driver to take them to Penn Station and they took the first available MTA train north to White Plains. Stiles led the way to a late model full-size SUV in the commuter lot and got behind the driver's seat. Peter put the small suitcase he had been carrying on the floor of the front seat and got in the passenger seat with the case between his legs. Stiles locked the doors.
Stiles started the car. "We're secure here. The car is protected against almost anything anyone can throw at us."
"Obviously you did not leave me that message," Peter said.
"Nope." Stiles shook his head. "I barely knew I would be there today."
Peter held out his phone, "This is what I got."
Stiles took the phone and read the text. Waldorf Astoria. NYC. Thursday at noon. Need your help. It was dated three days ago.
"I only knew yesterday that I would be in the city," Stiles said thoughtfully as he handed Peter back the phone.
Damn. His team was on some much-needed down-time and Stiles didn't have the skills to track a message like this one. It was likely sent by someone who knew what they were doing and would be next to impossible to track. But he was itching to try.
"Could someone be tracking me?" Peter asked. "Or the phone?"
"If they are, the protections on the vehicle have cut that off," Stiles replied. "You could be tracked to White Plains but you've disappeared as soon as you got into the car. Although if they did track you, that tells them you're with someone powerful or behind some good wards, at the very least."
"Now what?"
"Someone is setting something up that involves both of us," Stiles said as he started the car. "We need to figure out who and what they want."
"Where are we going?" Peter asked.
"I have a safe house on Long Island," Stiles said as he pulled out of the commuter lot.
"Don't we have to go back through the city? That's a lot of backtracking."
"We skirt the city," Stiles admitted. "But retracing our steps may help throw off anyone who knows I have a place in White Plains."
Stiles had an 'official' residence in White Plains, NY. It was reasonably close to the small White Plains airport and within driving distance of the larger New York City airports. It had its own level of protection, but the safe house was, well, safe.
"True," Peter said.
"So. How are you?" Stiles asked. "Not that I'm unappreciative, but what made you drop everything and come out to help me?"
Peter shrugged. "You asked."
"Huh." Stiles thought about that for a few minutes. "Really? That's all it took?"
"Yes."
Stiles wasn't quite sure what to do with that information, so he focused on his driving. He also was checking to see if they were being followed. He hadn't seen anything that looked like a tail but he had learned the hard way to be careful.
Peter sat comfortably but alert in the passenger seat. Stiles appreciated that Peter still trusted him enough to go along without asking questions. If someone had set them up, Stiles needed to get them to safety first. Once they were safe, they could make plans.
"We're coming up on a small town that has a reasonably decent supermarket," Stiles said after ninety minutes worth of driving. "There are canned goods and such in the safe house but nothing fresh. I haven't seen anything that looks like a tail and it's public enough to take the chance to get some supplies."
"How much further to your safe house?" Peter asked.
"Another hour-ish," Stiles replied as he pulled into the parking lot and chose a space where they could quickly pull out and get back onto the road. "Leave your phone here, and --" he looked Peter over -- "empty your pockets. I'll check everything over when we get to the house to make sure it's safe to bring any of that out of the vehicle."
"Could there be something on my clothes?" Peter asked. "While I'm pretty careful, I did not anticipate needing this level of security."
Stiles drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "I'm going to go with doubtful," he decided. "The protections on the car will break any magical tags that may have been placed on you."
"That's... impressive," Peter admitted.
"Just made sense to figure out how to do that," Stiles replied with a grin. "If there was anything else put on you, I have to hope your 'wolf would have noticed."
"Like I said, I'm generally careful," Peter said thoughtfully. "Doesn't mean someone couldn't have placed a tracking spell or device directly on me but I do agree it's doubtful."
Stiles watched as Peter dropped his phone into the center console. He emptied his pockets into the front pocket of the suitcase and turned to place the case in the back seat.
"Ready if you are," Peter said.
"We'll get enough food that we should take a cart," Stiles decided. It would also keep his hands free, if something happened while they were in the store.
The store was reasonably quiet for a random Thursday afternoon. The few other shoppers ignored them completely.
It was fun to bicker with Peter about over-priced fruits and vegetables, although Stiles was glad for Peter's sense of smell when it came to figuring out what was fresh and what was starting to spoil.
They went back to the meat counter and Peter frowned at most of the selection.
"What kind of a kitchen do you have?" Peter asked as he turned over a roast of pork in his hands.
"It's a pretty standard house," Stiles said. "So all the usual appliances and such."
"There's nothing specifically bad," Peter sighed. "It's just that there's nothing particularly good. We can take the best of what is here and do some creative cooking."
"There should be a variety of fresh herbs," Stiles put in. "It's not been tended but there is a herb garden on the property."
"That will help," Peter said, selecting a dozen packages of meat. Between them, they could eat a lot, Stiles knew. Peter was preparing for at least a week's stay.
Stiles added several bags of snack food and saw Peter add chocolate candies to their cart. Stiles paid cash for the groceries and they loaded the bounty into the back of the SUV. They had bagged anything that needed to stay cold together so that Stiles could cast what he mentally called a 'stasis' charm on that portion of their haul.
"Our destination is further east, but I'm going to head south for a bit," Stiles said. "Keep an eye out for a diner or someplace we can get a meal."
"Certainly," Peter nodded.
"What about there?" Stiles asked after a bit, nodding at a building on their left.
"It's a chain, but the plaza means it will be public enough to be relatively secure," Peter nodded. "Sure."
Stiles pulled into the parking lot and circled around to make sure they could easily get out of the lot.
Stiles was bummed when there were no curly fries on the menu but he ordered a chocolate milkshake to go with his bacon cheeseburger and fries. Peter ordered an omelet and toast.
"I cannot believe you are still eating curly fries," Peter huffed.
"Meh," Stiles grinned. "My magic takes a lot of energy, so I can afford the calories. Kind of like never seeing a really fat 'wolf."
"True," Peter agreed.
"So. What have you been up to lately?" Stiles asked.
"You know we moved out of Beacon Hills?" Peter asked.
Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I've kept in some contact with Derek. He let me know you were both moving on and leaving Beacon Hills to Scott."
"I assume he told you we've settled just outside of DC?" Peter asked. "It's populated enough to be like New York City. There are packs that claim some of the suburban areas but the cities are wide open. Derek finished his architecture degree..."
"That bastard didn't tell me that!" Stiles exclaimed. "I'm pleased for him!"
Peter smiled. "Yeah. That was good for him. He and Braeden are still doing that on-again and off-again thing they've been doing for years."
"She's working for the Marshall's office?"
"I think it's mostly freelance," Peter said. "I try to stay out of their business as much as possible."
"Cora was in South America the last I knew?"
Peter nodded. "After everything, she decided to go back and that's worked out well for her. If nothing else, she's happy there."
"Good for her."
"How is your dad?" Peter asked.
"He retired, oh, hmm, damn. He retired five years ago," Stiles said. "I talked him into moving out of Beacon Hills, especially since I wasn't going to be there for more than an occasional visit. He decided to move to Oregon and he's now a county alderman. It lets him be involved in town business but it's a lot less dangerous than being Sheriff."
"That is true," Peter agreed. "How about you?"
"Been consulting with the FBI," Stiles said. "I finally realized I wasn't cut out to be an agent but they desperately need help with the supernatural. So I'm on call to help when they think they need me. I know they're missing a lot of cases that I should be called for but, well, it's a start."
They finished their meals, used the bathroom, and went back to the car.
"Okay, we're less than an hour from our destination," Stiles announced,
They drove east for a while before Stiles turned north and then back west. He had circled around his final destination, checking for but not seeing anyone following them. He saw Peter watching the side view mirror regularly and looking at the vehicles around them.
Stiles noted the sign for Rocky Point State Pine Barrens Preserve and pulled off the road.
"We're going to hit a security ward shortly," he told Peter. "It should scan you but will let you through because you're with me. I don't totally know what you'll feel but don't fight it."
"I'll be prepared," Peter said.
For Stiles, crossing the ward gave a feeling of welcome and safety.
"Okay?" Stiles asked.
Peter rubbed his chest for a moment. "That was intense."
"We're almost there." Stiles drove down a dirt road and stopped at a gate across the road. He used a remote to open the gate and close it behind them. A bit further down the track, hidden from the road by trees and scrub was a good-sized bungalow. The single-story home had a large verandah that went around the entire structure.
"Leave your things here for now," Stiles said. "I don't think there are any problems but I want to double check. We can take the groceries inside and I'll get everything powered up."
For being in the middle of a nature preserve, Stiles had been able to connect the house to the electrical grid. The house had come with a generator, which he used if needed, but it was easier to use the local electrical supply. Stiles turned on the main breaker for the house. He also turned on the water for the building.
"Fridge should be cold soon," he said as he put some of the groceries inside the appliance. "Run some water through the kitchen sink and in the bathroom" -- Stiles pointed to a door at the back -- "to get the air out of the system. Better to do that now than have it burble at you in the middle of the night."
"Sure," Peter said, going into the bathroom. Stiles heard the pipes groan as water flowed through them.
"There will be hot water in about an hour," Stiles said. "Toilet and sinks drain into a septic system, if you care to know such things. Give me a minute and I'll turn on the secondary wards, which makes it next to impossible to get here without my knowing it."
Peter looked around the house. "This is nice," he commented.
The front section of the bungalow was the living space. The living room, kitchen, and eating area was essentially one open room. The furniture was good quality but comfortable. There were quilts on the back of the couch and chairs, allowing for impromptu napping.
The back of the house had a full bathroom and three bedrooms, the smallest of which Stiles had turned into an office. So there were two bedrooms with queen sized beds. It was comfortable and well-used.
"I come out here whenever I can," Stiles admitted. "I have a wireless hot-spot, so I can be on the Internet even here. And, well, there's one more thing you should know."
Peter looked wary for a moment. "And what might that be?"
"Come on," Stiles said. "It's a short walk." He looked down at Peter's shoes. "It's dry, so your fancy loafers will be safe." Stiles added with a grin.
Peter just shook his head.
Stiles was glad that Peter followed trustingly. It was about a quarter mile from the house and along a game trail that would be hard to spot in the dark.
"Hey," Stiles said as he walked up to an incongruous, huge boulder that was taller than Stiles. He patted the boulder once. "Back to visit. And I brought a friend."
Peter had stopped at the edge of the small clearing around the boulder.
"A rock?"
"Come here and touch it," Stiles directed. "It's safe."
Peter moved toward the boulder and hesitantly put a hand on it. He turned and exclaimed, "Stiles!"
"Yeah, I know," Stiles shrugged. "Who knew there was a Nemeton on Long Island?"
"There is nothing that I know of that suggests such a thing," Peter said softly. "Hello. Good to meet you."
Stiles felt a pulse of happiness from the Nemeton.
"And, well, one more improbable thing," Stiles admitted.
"What could be more improbable than this?"
Stiles flashed his eyes -- red eyes.
"Well. That is more improbable," Peter admitted, obviously intrigued.
"Now that I've said hello, I can raise the secondary wards," Stiles said. "Once we go back to the house, you can go outside on the verandah and in the clearing around the house but don't go into the woods without me."
"Understood," Peter nodded.
Stiles used the power of the Nemeton to raise the secondary wards that he rarely used. The primary wards would keep most out but, since he had no idea what might be going on, he wanted to be as safe as possible.
"Okay, that's done," he announced. "Back to the house. I need more food and probably a nap."
"And I'd like a story, if you're willing to share," Peter said.
Stiles nodded. "Once we're inside."
They walked back to the bungalow. Stiles went to the SUV to gather Peter's things. Any tampering should be negated by the secondary wards. And even if someone could track them to this location, they could not approach without alerting Stiles.
"Your phone will work but it will bounce off several towers," Stiles said. "Sometimes, that's dicey and calls are dropped. But it's more of a feature than a problem."
"The only person I might call would be Derek, but he knows I was going to meet with you," Peter said. "And he's used to not hearing from me for days. So he won't worry if I don't reach out to him. If we're here more than a week, then I should at least check in."
"Well, come on and we can start with some sandwiches," Stiles decided. "That will be quick. And I'll even let you make dinner while I nap."
"You will, will you?" Peter grinned. "How generous of you."
"I am good that way," Stiles laughed.
They both ate sandwiches with the crusty rolls they bought at the store.
"You said you had a store of canned goods and such," Peter said. "I'm assuming that's not here, since I don't see anything inordinate."
Stiles nodded. "There's a vault below the house. The house is actually built on it and it goes down two stories. Six people could live there for a year, if necessary. There's food, water, living space, books, whatever you might think you'd need. The space actually came with the house and there were some basic foodstuffs but I improved on it. Researched some survivalist websites for ideas of what to stock it with. It's a nuisance to refresh but worth having."
Peter nodded. "I wanted something like that at the house but Talia thought the tunnels were enough protection. There are a couple of caches in the Preserve. They're probably still there."
"Scott would never think to look for such a thing," Stiles agreed. "So, yup, still there and probably in need of refreshing. Although they would be better than nothing in an emergency. " He yawned.
"Go and take your nap," Peter prompted. "I will slave over a meal for later."
"Just an hour," Stiles said, then reconsidered. "Okay, two hours. If I sleep too long now, I'm all out of whack and then I'm awake at three in the morning and want to sleep at seven in the evening."
"Well, I suspect it would be quiet here," Peter replied. "You could do that unless you have a need to check in with someone."
"That is the nice part about not having a nine-to-five day job," Stiles agreed. Another yawn. "There's a variety of clothes in the second bedroom. It's all clean, so you can see what you can find. And there's a washer and dryer, so that will help."
"I have some basics in my case, but it wasn't meant for more than two days," Peter said. "Go. I'll be fine."
Stiles grinned and wandered to the bedroom he normally used. He shut the door and stripped off his clothes. Naked, he climbed into the bed and shut his eyes.
Stiles' internal alarm woke him. The room was dark but there was a lovely scent of food in the air. He grinned. Peter had come up with something for them. His stomach rumbled. He had done enough magic today to need another meal, so he was glad something might be ready soon.
He donned the robe hanging on the back of the door and went into the bathroom. He took a quick shower, glad to wash off the day. He went back to his room, dressed in sweats and went into the front of the house.
Peter was sitting in a lounge chair, reading something on a tablet.
"Feeling better?" Peter asked.
Stiles nodded. "Much, thanks. Whatever you have cooking smells great."
"Pretty much a stew," Peter replied. "Meat, potatoes, vegetables and some oregano I found growing off the back porch. It will be better tomorrow, once it's had a chance to marinate some more but it will be good tonight."
"Perfect," Stiles said.
The stew was hearty and Stiles complimented Peter on his work. "That is good and, you're right. Tomorrow it will be even better."
"So. Willing to tell me about your red eyes? How did you get those without turning into a 'wolf?" Peter asked.
Stiles rubbed the back of his neck.
"I was working with a Druid that wasn't Deaton. He was uneasy about working with me and complained incessantly about the precious Balance, like Deaton always did. Said that I was upsetting the Balance and he couldn't fix it," Stiles replied. "He sent me here, to Pine Barren Bob."
"Pine Barren Bob?" Peter repeated, obviously puzzled.
"That's pretty much what I said," Stiles admitted. "Well, Pine Barren is from the park name and his name really was Bob."
"Okay..."
"Well, turned out that Bob was a Spark, like me," Stiles went on.
Stiles saw Peter consider that. "Like the Nemeton, there is no information about a Spark living in this area at all."
Stiles shrugged. "Bob didn't tell me everything and I got the impression that he had lived in lots of other places under lots of other names. From what I could figure out, I'm guessing he was at least a couple of hundred years old."
Peter nodded. "That is the theory about Sparks," he said. "The ones that learn to control their magic, and who can keep themselves safe, they can live a long time."
"Well, Bob certainly was old when I met him," Stiles agreed. "He only let me come here because, well, he needed someone to leave his legacy to and I was about the only candidate for it."
"What did you get?" Peter asked.
"He had an Alpha spark from a 'wolf he had been married to some years ago," Stiles said. "His husband willed the Alpha spark to Bob, when he died. Being a Spark already, becoming an Alpha evidently wasn't all that hard. The combination led Bob here, to the Nemeton. Bob put the primary wards down as soon as he realized what he had and the Nemeta helped erase knowledge of this Nemeton from, well, everywhere."
"That's... that's amazing," Peter said as he shook his head.
"What we have is essentially the disaster Nemeton," Stiles said baldly. "If things go badly, this Nemeton is designed to survive. Anything and anyone within the secondary wards should survive but, well, no guarantees."
"If that happens, then what?" Peter asked.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Stiles said. "But we're the last line of defense for the entire world."
"That's... awesome and awful," Peter said softly.
"I know," Stiles agreed. "Somehow, I'm glad I have someone to share that with."
"Thank you for trusting me with this," Peter said. They sat in silence for a moment. "Now what?"
"We do the dishes and see if we can figure out who might have wanted to put us together," Stiles said.
"I cooked, you clean," Peter said smugly.
Stiles laughed. "That works," he agreed. "Tell me, what you were reading?"
Peter reddened a bit. "I don't get a lot of time to read for entertainment, so it's a silly beach read that I picked up a while ago."
"Oh!" Stiles giggled. "One of those fairy-tale stories where the white knight swoops in to save the damsel who may-or-may-not be in distress?"
"Pretty much," Peter hedged.
"Oh. Peter Hale!" Stiles pointed a finger at him. "Are you reading shifter fic?" When Peter opened his mouth, Stiles held up a hand. "Wait. Let me guess. Not-so-helpless human falls in with a lonely and not-quite-feral Alpha. They're chased by Hunters and have to pretend to be mated to escape from said Hunters. They get to safety and when they're about to go separate ways, the Alpha finally admits they really are mates. The human is both offended and charmed but flounces away, leaving the Alpha bereft. But another Alpha pokes the Alpha and there's groveling and then they live happily ever after."
Peter rolled his eyes. "It's like you wrote that yourself."
It was Stiles' turn to blush.
"You write shifter romance books?" Peter's eyes narrowed.
"Only three," Stiles admitted. "And there's not as much money in it as you think. If Bob didn't leave me his money to go with this place, I'd be in a world of hurt."
"We would have helped, sweetheart," Peter said instantly.
"I know," Stiles said. "But, well, I'm not sure this is a secret I can share with Derek. I think knowing a place like this exists would frustrate him. You and I are a lot more pragmatic about what's going on out there and know this kind of a fail-safe is necessary. Derek wouldn't give it away but it would weigh heavily on him."
"Too true," Peter agreed.
"So. Let me get the dishes done and you can go back to your book," Stiles said. "I'm going to go online and alert my team about what is going on. They can see if they can figure out who might have sent us those messages."
"Do they know about this place?"
Stiles busied himself putting away the leftovers and putting the dishes in the sink.
"Mostly no," Stiles said. "They know I have a magical safe house that I won't let them near. They weren't pleased that they couldn't come here but some of that is outside my control. The fact that the Nemeton let you here is a sign that you're meant to be here."
"And then?"
"And then we hang out for a couple of days, depending on what they find," Stiles said.
"That's not awful," Peter said.
"It's like a vacation," Stiles said as he efficiently washed the dishes and left them in the drainer to dry. Peter had washed up the prep dishes as he worked so there weren't that many dishes to do.
"There's a fire pit out back," Stiles said. "I've used it for burning brush but it can be nice just to sit around at night."
Peter nodded warily. "We can do that."
"Let me leave messages for my team and poke around some sites," Stiles said. "The team is good at what it does but there are a few places only I can go."
"Go ahead," Peter said. "I can amuse myself for a bit."
Stiles composed a message for his team, letting them know what happened and that he was safe. Since he had nothing but speculation to work with, he told them to mostly keep an ear out for rumors and to see if there were any threats that they should be aware of.
He then poked at some supernatural message boards he had access to but found nothing alarming anywhere.
"I've done as much as I can do for tonight," Stiles said. "I'm going to call it a night."
"I was traveling for several hours before we met up," Peter said. "I was in Vegas when I got your message and needed to finish up the meetings I was there for. So, I'm ready for some sleep myself."
"The bathroom has shampoo and soap," Stiles said. "It's all unscented. I'm not a 'wolf but I have some enhanced abilities from being an Alpha. My sense of smell and hearing are sharper, so I find unscented toiletries easier to use. I heal faster but, of course, not as fast as a true shifter."
"That's good to know," Peter replied. "I'm good for now, but a shower will be good in the morning."
"Okay then, good night," Stiles said. He threw his clothes on a chair and climbed naked into bed.
Stiles woke warmer than he had expected. He opened his eyes to find that Peter had joined him in the bed at some point in the night.
Huh. Deciding he'd figure it out in the morning, Stiles snuggled closer and went back to sleep.
Stiles woke to see Peter watching him.
"Hey!" Stiles said softly.
"You were... I don't know what you were but I felt the need to crawl into bed with you," Peter admitted. "I haven't slept this well in a long time."
"And, being me, I haven't slept with anyone in a long time," Stiles admitted. "Platonic or otherwise. So I'm a bit skin-hungry. This was nice."
Peter nodded. "And my 'wolf is happier when it has someone to connect with," he admitted.
Stiles looked at the soft Peter in his bed. Something about Peter's openness made Stiles bold.
"I'd like to try something..." Stiles said hesitantly.
"Anything," Peter said instantly.
"You are too trusting," Stiles grinned.
"Only for you."
Without thinking too much, Stiles surged close to Peter and kissed him.
Peter froze for a second. As Stiles was about to move away, Peter wound his arms around Stiles and brought them impossibly close together. Peter's kisses were soft, demanding, open, warm...
At some unknown point, Peter backed off and looked at Stiles. "If you don't want this to go further, maybe we should stop."
"And maybe we shouldn't," Stiles grinned.
"Brat," Peter growled as he rolled them so that Stiles was under him. In that moment, Stiles realized Peter also had slept naked and their cocks rubbed deliciously together.
Stiles spread his legs and Peter settled comfortably between them. "You've tempted me for so long," Peter admitted. "But there was this voice in the back of my head that told me you could do better than me."
"Who could be better than you?" Stiles asked. "You're... you're Peter Hale. You're fierce, loyal, paranoid, sneaky, soft, a pretentious prima donna, and gorgeous. What more could I ask for?" He wriggled with intent. "Although I can tell you're as hard as I am, too!"
"I don't want you to regret this," Peter said. Stiles could see the worry in his eyes.
"Never," Stiles said with as much conviction as possible.
Peter lowered his mouth to Stiles' and there was no talking for quite a while.
The sun was high in the sky the next time they came up for air.
Stiles put a hand on the side of Peter's face. He leaned in for a soft kiss. "You are and always have been special to me, Peter Hale. You are an important part of my life and I will never willingly leave you."
Peter's eyes went wide and he touched his sternum. "Did you just create a Pack bond with me?"
Stiles nodded.
"Sweetheart, I never expected that," he said. He returned Stiles' kiss. "You are an important part of my life and I will never willingly leave you."
Stiles felt a sense of wonder, and love, flow between them.
Then his stomach gurgled and he giggled. "Okay, we probably both need some food."
"That bathroom's not big enough for us to shower together," Peter said.
"Good point," Stiles said. "Take the first shower. I'll put some coffee on and organize..." he looked at a clock, "brunch."
"That works," Peter said. He kissed Stiles thoroughly before getting out of bed.
Stiles lay basking in the warmth of the blankets, until he realized he was in a wet spot that was starting to get cold. He smiled and climbed out to make coffee. Once coffee was started, he stripped the sheets and threw them into the washer.
Later in the day, Stiles checked his email to see if his team had any idea of what might be going on and if there were any credible threats to be aware of.
"That bastard!" Stiles growled.
"What?" Peter got up and leaned over Stiles' shoulder.
Stiles pointed to a message that was from Derek. All it said was You're welcome.