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Peter Hale is Evil

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“Look, Peter, I just need some information on something. Can’t you, I don’t know... be literally anywhere else?” Stiles was at the end of his fucking rope with this guy, God, why couldn’t the bastard have just done everyone a favor and stayed dead ?

 

“I don’t know… I must admit, watching you run from book to book frantically, trying to look like you have any idea what you’re doing - while you, in fact, are just as clueless as the rest of Derek’s pups is very entertaining.” Peter had sat down on the stairs with the Johnnie Walker he’d poured, smirking and looking creepy in general.

 

“Oh my - can’t you be even a little helpful for once? I mean, this does in fact concern your health, safety, and lifespan too, RePete.” Ignoring the low growl Peter had started at the nickname, Stiles went on. “I know that Derek didn’t kill you - again - for a reason… and just because that reason is sentimentality doesn’t mean you don’t have to pull your weight in this pseudo pack.”

 

Peter didn’t respond for awhile, so long actually, that Stiles just assumed he was a lost cause. When Peter did speak again, Stiles almost didn’t hear it. “Sentimentality?”

 

“What?”

 

“Sentimentality,” Peter rolled his eyes. “Nostalgia, reminiscence, emotions, need I go on?”

 

“No, no, I know what it means, I was questioning your context.”

 

Sighing, Peter tried to get more comfortable on the stairs. “Derek hasn’t killed me yet, and you cited him being sentimental as his reason. I disagree. He would’ve ripped my heart out in three seconds if he was being sentimental .

 

“He doesn’t know - can’t know, honestly. Can’t know what Talia would do if she somehow managed to bring herself back. Whether she would pull him close for a hug, and tell him that it’s not his fault; that she’s glad he survived; that everything’s okay. Or if she’d look at him with disgust and then tell him that it’s all his fault. That he killed his family - killed her - by fucking that Argent whore. If she’d tell him that she wished he’d died with everybody else.

 

“But me? I’ve known Talia since I was born . I’ve grown up with her. Who knew her better than I do? So I know. I know exactly what she would say, and what she would do, and that’s why he keeps me around. Not for sentimentality - it’s because when I tell him that his mother would hate him down to his very bones, he knows that I could be right.

 

“Of course he’s probably told himself over and over that she wouldn’t hate him, and that she wouldn’t kick him out of her pack, and maybe every once in awhile he believes it. But there’s always going to be that devil on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. Maybe it’s saying that of course that’s what he thinks - because that’s what he wants to believe . Maybe it’s telling him that he’s just trying to make himself feel better, and he should stop lying to himself. When I tell him, he knows that I wouldn’t sugarcoat it for him, and while there is a very large possibility it isn’t the truth… well then at least he’s feeling as guilty as he should...just in case.”

 

Stiles could feel his entire body recoiling in disgust. At the same time, he could also feel the strong impulse to just launch himself at the smug fucking bastard. Even though he knew he’d lose, almost every bone in his body was fucking itching to just try to kill him. To take the ceremonial knife off the table and go straight for the throat. Because Derek didn’t deserve this piece of shit. Derek deserved someone who could actually make him feel better, instead of making him feel more guilty about everything. Therapy was doing wonders for Derek, but it couldn’t help as much as it needed to with Peter around making him worse.

 

Stiles could relate to that kind of guilt. Could relate to the kind of guilt that came when a family member died (or in Derek’s case, multiple family members), and one couldn’t help feeling like it was their fault - even if it wasn’t. So yeah, he wanted to grab one of Chris’s guns, put some wolfsbane bullets in, and let loose.

 

Before Stiles could do anything though, the emergency phone beeped loudly.

 

Lydia knows what it is - get over to her house asap

 

When he looked up, Peter was gone.