sassiopath | Beginnings:: Sick Fantasies verse

The first time it happened had been the mechanic that had purposefully gouged Stiles on a transmission overhaul in the Jeep. The Sheriff had covered the cost, and been a bit surprised to find nearly half the money paid refunded to his credit card. Especially when he got a call the next day to come to the mechanic's.

Someone had used a drill and gouged holes throughout all of the equipment.

No one put two and two together.

The second time had been a senior, a new transfer in, who thought taking pot shots at Stiles the way Harris did was the quick route to make friends at Beacon Hills High.

Leaving the school that day, he'd been jumped somewhere between school and home. The resulting beat down had left him with two broken ribs, a busted nose and his jaw wired shut.

Those gifts were subtle though. The first open gift had been when Harris came into his room during his break and found his desk on fire.

Yet each time Peter made sure he wasn't around, that he wasn't seen. Despite them being gifts for Stiles, he knew if the boy connected him to them, it would go badly. So it was he just happened to be in the same grocer's the boy was that afternoon. Entirely accidental run in, of course.

Coming around a corner, he very nearly literally ran into the boy.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Peter frowned at Stiles though he nodded. "Of course. I live with their screams, with the knowledge I couldn't save them from inside. He lives with the knowledge he wasn't there to die with them. We both have our own pain over their loss, and our own way of handling it. I sought revenge and now fight the monster she made by her actions. He fights the monster she made of what he sees as his own actions," he said, speaking low so others wouldn't over hear.

He considered that. "The nurse was my paranoia. I still was fighting for control of the psychosis the fire caused. I recognize it now. Then, then it just seemed who I was. I almost couldn't remember the man I was before. I knew though that people left. Like Derek had. I didn't want to lose Scott the same way."

"And now," Stiles challenged.

"And now what? Am I cured? No. Am I working through it? You could say that," he said, staring at him without anger. "What do you want me to say, Stiles? I'm better? It would be a lie."

"I'm sorry for kidnapping you, threatening you violence, committing violence and trying to bite you would be a good start," Stiles hissed.

"I can and will apologize for anything but offering you the bite," he said, tones darkening slightly. "That is a gift that I truly felt you deserved."

"Fine, can and do apologise for the rest then."

He straightened, looking at Stiles. He was serious, his expression both fierce and yet as sincere as he might.

"I'm sorry for kidnapping you. I'm sorry I risked your life instead of protecting it. I did think you were a prime candidate for the bite, and I should have respected that."

Stiles was actually surprised. "Oh. Well. Thanks. For recognising I have rights as living person."

He wanted to point out none of them had done that when they'd ignored his mental illness and instead lit him on fire. That did make him bristle.

"Funny. I would have thought someone concerned with that wouldn't have further tortured a man with mental illnesses by lighting him on fire but to each their own."

"We were out of other options on how to slow you down enough to kill you. Fire was the only option we had left." He rocked on his feet again. "Okay, it was a slightly tasteless choice, but we were really desperate and scared."

"Yes, well so was my family when they were burned to death and I burned beside them but I had few options that night, did I," he asked, looking away because he hadn't meant to go here, and the memories of it were still fresh and raw in his head.

"Right. Whatever. Certainly doesn't matter to any of you and I'm expected to swallow it and pretend it didn't happen," he said with a false cheer.

Stiles glanced away. Sometimes, it was easy to forget Peter was a victim before he was a monster. "Well, really, we expected you to stay dead and not have to go over the moral dubiousness of burning a fire victim to death."

"Of course. Why worry about the morality of those kind of actions when the person's dead. I mean, not as if they relived those moments before their death or anything," he said, hands tightening on the hand cart he carried.

"Like I said, certainly doesn't matter."

"Yeah, was more worried with not dying, to be honest." Because it had been on the cards. And he had known it.

"You weren't top on my list of people to kill. Even if you did turn me down," he said flatly.

"Yeah, but most of the ones ahead of me were there or dead."

"I could argue that all most of you had to do was step back and let me have Kate. I have been so much calmer since then," he said, seeming to marvel at that as if only just noticing that difference in himself.

"Yeah, and then you would've started on the people you felt were guilty by association. And by not realising. And then there'd be like, a handful of people left and you'd probably turn them to make a pack. You weren't stopping. You've been calmer since you died."

He held up a finger at that. "I'm not arguing the calmer part. I'm noting the means of murder. It was a calculated and sickening choice. Do you count yourself as a monster, Stiles? You have what it takes, you know."

Said calmly, curiously.

"It was a choice of desperation. Nothing else even slows down an Alpha. Fire. Acid. Wolfsbane, which we didn't have access to, we being me and Lydia."

He stepped back. "No. I'm done. I'm not arguing this with you. I'm buying the rest of my groceries and going home to make dinner."

He frowned then, brow furrowing. "I wasn't arguing. I was genuinely curious. I like knowing what others think and feel. Most of my memories of emotions are overshadowed," he pointed out, taking a step back. "And Derek's are far from helpful."

"Derek's the most emotionally constipated person in existence." Stiles shifted his feet. "I have to get home and cook dinner. Seriously. Or Dad will get take out."

"Sadly he was that way before and my lack of control did nothing to help," he said, coming the closest to admitting he had a hand in it than he ever had.

"Enjoy your dinner, Stiles," he said with a nod, turning on heel. "And be careful out there."

He took away Derek's sister and Alpha. That can't have done anything good to someone as emotionally damaged as Derek.

"Yeah. Um. You too?"

He chuckled as he strolled away. He was what others feared, not the other way around.

Beginnings:: Sick Fantasies verse :: For sarcasticdefence

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject