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Lucky Me

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There was a pack meeting tonight.

No one invited him of course, but Peter was rather good at picking up on these things without needing to be included. Besides, cloning Derek’s text messages so that they also came to Peter's phone was a hilarious way to get blackmail.

He hadn’t planned on attending. Derek was probably just going to use it to warn all of the now graduated high schoolers about the witches that rolled into town over the weekend while they were celebrating, which was old news to Peter.

And then his day started going downhill, picking up speed as it went.

First, he found out that his car battery died overnight even though the battery wasn’t even six months old. Then the tow truck didn’t show up, even after he called multiple times.

Peter’s apartment isn’t exactly in the middle of nowhere, so he gave in and walked the mile and a half to the closest auto parts store to get a replacement only to get a call halfway back from the towing company saying they successfully impounded the illegally parked car.

That had taken some careful explanations to clear up, with a lot of drawn out sighs on their side and barely repressed murderous impulses on his.

By noon he was already done with the day, so he scrapped his plans to subtly patrol around the town for those witches in favor of getting a nice lunch.

Suffice to say that was a mistake that cost him over a hundred dollars, a pair of very nice shoes, and three hours of his life that he wasn’t going to get back.

Done with people in general, he returned to his apartment only to find it absolutely saturated in dark magic. Unfortunately, he was only able to tell that it was from inside the apartment and only after at least four different traps snapped shut on him.

Honestly, it should have occurred to him earlier that his run of bad luck was caused by magic, but after all the shit he’d gone through since he graduated high school it was just so easy to assume that was just his life.

Getting out of the physical traps took some careful maneuvering, especially the one with the razor wire because at least one of those witches was vicious , and eventually he made it to the door with only minor blood loss and the right leg of his slacks which was now cut off below the knee.

The car ride over to the loft was risky, but there was no way he would have made it over there looking like this without it.

So here he was, at the pack meeting.  And late, unfashionably so at that.

“Look who decided to join us.” Strange how it was always Stiles who noticed him first instead of any of the wolves in attendance. That said several bad things about the members of the pack that Peter liked to bring up periodically, but it always started a fight and now wasn't the time.

“Do we have to?” Peter asked, not really up for a battle of wits on top of everything else.

McCall rolled his eyes at their exchange, barely looking at them before turning back to whatever conversation he was having with the newer members of his pack while Derek gave Peter a narrow glare. Returning the glare with a flat look of his own, Peter looked away sharply when Stiles approached him.

“Why not? You love our snark-offs.” The younger man asked, amber eyes jumping from Peter’s face to his missing pant leg and then to his ruined shoes.

“Of course,” Peter loaded his words with sarcasm because the easiest way to lie convincingly was to tell the truth in a disparaging tone. “They’re my favorite part of the day.”

“I knew it!” Stiles’ smile was cheeky as he cockily tilted his head to one side. “You’ll miss me when I go to college, won’t you?”

Actually, yes. That was the primary reason he hadn’t been attending pack meetings lately and why he wasn’t going to come tonight. Better to rip the bandage off in one go.

“Right.” He drew out the word before stepping around Stiles to move towards the staircase. Not even bothering to walk up any steps, he sat down on the lowest one with a sigh.

Looking up from his seat, Peter saw that Stiles followed him.

“Can I help you?” While usually he wouldn't mind, he already had enough human interaction for today. His current plans consisted of telling Derek about the witches’ traps, resting here for the night, and picking up some things to deactivate them tomorrow when the worst of the bad luck curse would probably be over with.

“Hey.” Stiles’ serious tone caught Peter’s wandering attention better than any shout. Giving him time to move out of the way, Stiles set his fingers against the stubble on his jaw, pushing lightly until Peter tilted his head.

The room had at least three other conversations happening, but they dulled to a low murmur as Stiles’ brown eyes sharpened under his furrowed brow. His hand left Peter’s face only to return as a light brush down the side of his neck where a razor wire had come a little too close earlier that day.

Peter swallowed, watching intently as Stiles inspected the dried blood now lingering on his fingertips.

“Who did this to you?” Rubbing his fingers together, Stiles turned his gaze back to Peter.

He hesitated, unwilling to look weak, but knowing the truth would come out soon anyway. Besides, if he had to tell someone Stiles could at least be counted on to help instead of brush him off.

“Those witches found their first victim.” Peter gave a tight smile.

“I see.” Stiles pulled back and riffled through his pockets before taking out a small canvas pouch, presenting it with a flourish. “Here you go.”

Peter looked between him and the bag. Deciding he trusted him enough to take it before asking, he accepted the pouch only to feel a rush of energy flow through him. He straightened out of his slouch and frowned at the bag.

“What is this?” 

“Your protection pouch.” Stiles said as though that explained everything. “Kinda like a pocket protector, but instead of keeping ink off your shirt it keeps malicious spells off your everything.”

Everything? A catch-all protection charm then? Those usually weren’t exactly easy to make and the going price for one was frankly ridiculous. Raising his brows Peter fiddled with the pouch, thoughtfully twisting it between his fingers.

“And you made enough of them to even gift me with one. Impressive.” 

“I made three.” Stiles clarified, holding up the same number of fingers and counting them off. “One for me, one for Dad, and one for you.”

The small bag slipped from Peter's fingers, but he caught it before it could fall far. He considered the man before him with a frown as Stiles looked away a bit uncomfortably.

“Look, if you don’t want it I can take it back.” Stiles eventually offered testily, holding out a hand.

Pulling the pocket-sized protection charm close to his chest, Peter gave him an offended look.

“After the day I’ve had? Not on your life.” The lie was more obvious this time, but he moved on from it easily. “How well does it work on locations?”

Stiles frowned even as he relaxed into a comfortable slouch once more.

“I don’t know. Maybe a foot around you, tops. Why?”

Damn. So he’d still need to clean up his apartment.

“Let’s just say that half of this wasn’t just bad luck.” Peter replied, gesturing broadly at himself. “Hopefully Derek still has that inflatable mattress or I’ll be sleeping on that couch.”

And, judging by the giggles coming from it right then, he really didn’t want to do that.

Stiles followed his look and grimaced sympathetically.

“Well, we have a guest room if you need to crash.” He offered.

“The good Sheriff won’t mind?” Odd, the man certainly never looked comfortable around Peter before.

“He probably would if he was here, but he swapped weekend shifts for nights to celebrate the end of our high school careers with us so he won’t be back until tomorrow morning.” Stiles shrugged just a little too quickly to be careless. He continued before Peter could do more than narrow his eyes at that realization. “Besides, we could get a head start on that revenge we need to carry out tomorrow.”

Something inside Peter burned a little brighter at the automatic assumption that they’d both go out and take care of the witches tomorrow. He breathed deep to help control his speeding heartbeat.

“Well, how could I turn down an offer like that?” He mused aloud, accepting Stiles’ hand up. “Some vengeance and a comfortable bed are exactly what I need right now.”

They shared matching grins before Stiles waved him towards the door.

“If you’re in the market for a new apartment, I know of one just a couple of hours from here.” Amber eyes watched Peter as Stiles obviously tried to play it cool. “I hear there’s a particularly good deal on a two-bedroom if you don’t mind having a Spark as a roommate.”

“Is that so?” Peter’s smile widened. “I may just take them up on it.”

Things were looking better already.