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Title: Shatter
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Deaton/Peter
Rating: PG-13
Summary:Peter visits Alan on their anniversary.
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf. It's not my my toy box and I’m merely playing.
A/N: Written for PilgrimKitty. Thanks for the help today!
Warning: This is angsty. It contains references to mind control and mind alterations. It infers that Stiles' mother was murdered and implies he witnessed it. I've been plotting that fic all day and it worked its way in here. I also imply that Alan believes Peter cheated on him with the nurse, but I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions.
Shatter:
Alan knew what today was, which was why he insisted that he greet everyone that came through the door. Scott gave him an odd look, but he didn’t offer an explanation. If it turned out he didn’t have to then he didn’t want to. He’d already shed his tears that morning, before he’d gotten out of bed, it helped when Peter walked through the door.
Hoping he could keep his look of disapproval firmly in place Alan told him, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“You know what today is?” Peter asked with a small seductive smirk. It was a look he’d known well, only it used to come with a slight blush and teasing eyes. The eyes that stared at him now are cold, calculated and that should make this easier, except it doesn’t.
“Fifteen years.”
“We had plans,” Peter reminded.
“No,” Alan contradicted, surprised that he could keep his voice steady, “We had plans for our tenth.”
“Would’ve been nice,” Peter tried as he stepped forward.
“Stay where you are, better yet leave.”
Peter frowned, tilted his head. It was so familiar it almost broke Alan’s resolve. He wanted. He wanted the future he had planned, the past that he couldn’t fix. He wanted to reach out, pull Peter close and find a way to sooth the pain of the past six years. Then Peter opened his mouth, “I remember flowers and dinner instead. You stayed, fed me.”
“I should’ve known.”
“Known?” Peter questioned.
“Yeah,” Alan continued, to remind Peter as much remind himself, “You never needed a feeding tube, with that much extensive burning, with how unresponsive...with how you played being unresponsive you should’ve needed one. You also never needed a lift, it only took one nurse to get you out of bed and into a chair. It was a mistake to hire a private nurse, how long did it take you to seduce her?”
“Who said I did?”
“She’s dead! She must have lied about how bad you were. You never even needed…”Alan trailed off as his voice cracked as all the little things he should’ve seen started pushing at him.
“Why would you think I did that?” Peter asked as he moved to step closer and then stopped when Alan took a step back.
“Lydia,” Alan countered.
“Was necessary.”
“The ends don’t justify the means, you played with that girl’s mind!”
Peter pouted, “Throwing stones?”
Alan stilled, took a slow breath. He clenched his hand, unclenched them and forced out, “It’s different.”
“Why don’t we ask Stiles that? Oh wait, he can’t remember.”
The look of triumph on Peter’s face, the sneer there reminded Alan that the man he had loved was gone.
“If he wants to remember he can,” Alan managed to tell him, not looking forward to the questions he knew would be coming from Scott.
“I always thought he’d make an excellent werewolf,” Peter changed the subject. Alan waited for the blow silently. Peter raised his eyebrows, “You want to know why I went for Scott instead?”
“Because he was there.”
“Yeah, but I could smell you on him. You’d touched his arm earlier, maybe gave it a squeeze,” Peter pushed.
“We’d put his neighbor’s dog down that morning,” Alan told him flatly.
“Don’t be like that,” Peter chided, “Today is a happy day.”
“Happy Anniversary. Get out.”
Peter made a disapproving noise and then was gone. Alan forced himself to remain still. He wanted to grab the counter for support, wanted to sit down, but he couldn’t be sure that Peter had actually left. He’d only just noticed that his hands were shaking when Scott stepped near, concern on his face as he asked, “Are you okay?”
“No, not really.”
Scott shifted from foot to foot and frowned.
“It was smart of you to stay back there,” Alan praised.
“He had to know I was here, but I didn’t know what would set him off.”
Alan nodded and let himself sit down on the floor. He took a slow breath and rested his hands on his knees. Scott watched him, crouched down and tilted his head.
“Go on, ask,” Alan pushed.
Scott gave him a sad look. Alan looked at his hands again, they’d stopped shaking.
“Did Stiles ever tell you how his mother died?”
“They were in the woods and some hunters mistook her for a deer.” Scott answered.
“That’s the official story, yes.”
Scott frowned, “He doesn’t want to talk about it so we don’t.”
“I didn’t erase the memory,” Alan told him, “I just blocked it.”
“Why?”
Alan pressed his lips together, then repeated the reasons he always told himself, “He was seven. He was covered in her blood and he wouldn’t stop screaming.”
“What happened?” Scott asked, though his tone indicated he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“I’m not sure. I just got brought in to block his memory. Derek might know more, probably not, he was barely a teenager.”
“Werewolves didn’t…
“No, they found her, got an ambulance.”
Scott nodded.
“He might be ready to remember, he might never be,” Alan told him.
Scott frowned.
“You can ask him what happened,” Alan suggested.
“You just said he doesn’t remember.”
“It might help him remember,” Alan clarified.
“What if he doesn’t want to?”
“Then he’s not ready.”
Scott nodded and gave his shoulder a squeeze, “Do you need anything?”
Alan tilted his head, startled, “You’re not angry with me?”
“You did what you thought was right,” Scott shrugged.
Alan tried for a smile, gave Scott’s hand a squeeze and told him, “I just need a moment. I’ll be fine.”
Scott nodded, stood and got back to work. Alan ran a hand down his face, then stared at the place Peter had stood. He took another slow breath then closed his eyes and said goodbye to the life he would never have. He stood, brushed off his jeans and got back to work.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Deaton/Peter
Rating: PG-13
Summary:Peter visits Alan on their anniversary.
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Teen Wolf. It's not my my toy box and I’m merely playing.
A/N: Written for PilgrimKitty. Thanks for the help today!
Warning: This is angsty. It contains references to mind control and mind alterations. It infers that Stiles' mother was murdered and implies he witnessed it. I've been plotting that fic all day and it worked its way in here. I also imply that Alan believes Peter cheated on him with the nurse, but I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions.
Shatter:
Alan knew what today was, which was why he insisted that he greet everyone that came through the door. Scott gave him an odd look, but he didn’t offer an explanation. If it turned out he didn’t have to then he didn’t want to. He’d already shed his tears that morning, before he’d gotten out of bed, it helped when Peter walked through the door.
Hoping he could keep his look of disapproval firmly in place Alan told him, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“You know what today is?” Peter asked with a small seductive smirk. It was a look he’d known well, only it used to come with a slight blush and teasing eyes. The eyes that stared at him now are cold, calculated and that should make this easier, except it doesn’t.
“Fifteen years.”
“We had plans,” Peter reminded.
“No,” Alan contradicted, surprised that he could keep his voice steady, “We had plans for our tenth.”
“Would’ve been nice,” Peter tried as he stepped forward.
“Stay where you are, better yet leave.”
Peter frowned, tilted his head. It was so familiar it almost broke Alan’s resolve. He wanted. He wanted the future he had planned, the past that he couldn’t fix. He wanted to reach out, pull Peter close and find a way to sooth the pain of the past six years. Then Peter opened his mouth, “I remember flowers and dinner instead. You stayed, fed me.”
“I should’ve known.”
“Known?” Peter questioned.
“Yeah,” Alan continued, to remind Peter as much remind himself, “You never needed a feeding tube, with that much extensive burning, with how unresponsive...with how you played being unresponsive you should’ve needed one. You also never needed a lift, it only took one nurse to get you out of bed and into a chair. It was a mistake to hire a private nurse, how long did it take you to seduce her?”
“Who said I did?”
“She’s dead! She must have lied about how bad you were. You never even needed…”Alan trailed off as his voice cracked as all the little things he should’ve seen started pushing at him.
“Why would you think I did that?” Peter asked as he moved to step closer and then stopped when Alan took a step back.
“Lydia,” Alan countered.
“Was necessary.”
“The ends don’t justify the means, you played with that girl’s mind!”
Peter pouted, “Throwing stones?”
Alan stilled, took a slow breath. He clenched his hand, unclenched them and forced out, “It’s different.”
“Why don’t we ask Stiles that? Oh wait, he can’t remember.”
The look of triumph on Peter’s face, the sneer there reminded Alan that the man he had loved was gone.
“If he wants to remember he can,” Alan managed to tell him, not looking forward to the questions he knew would be coming from Scott.
“I always thought he’d make an excellent werewolf,” Peter changed the subject. Alan waited for the blow silently. Peter raised his eyebrows, “You want to know why I went for Scott instead?”
“Because he was there.”
“Yeah, but I could smell you on him. You’d touched his arm earlier, maybe gave it a squeeze,” Peter pushed.
“We’d put his neighbor’s dog down that morning,” Alan told him flatly.
“Don’t be like that,” Peter chided, “Today is a happy day.”
“Happy Anniversary. Get out.”
Peter made a disapproving noise and then was gone. Alan forced himself to remain still. He wanted to grab the counter for support, wanted to sit down, but he couldn’t be sure that Peter had actually left. He’d only just noticed that his hands were shaking when Scott stepped near, concern on his face as he asked, “Are you okay?”
“No, not really.”
Scott shifted from foot to foot and frowned.
“It was smart of you to stay back there,” Alan praised.
“He had to know I was here, but I didn’t know what would set him off.”
Alan nodded and let himself sit down on the floor. He took a slow breath and rested his hands on his knees. Scott watched him, crouched down and tilted his head.
“Go on, ask,” Alan pushed.
Scott gave him a sad look. Alan looked at his hands again, they’d stopped shaking.
“Did Stiles ever tell you how his mother died?”
“They were in the woods and some hunters mistook her for a deer.” Scott answered.
“That’s the official story, yes.”
Scott frowned, “He doesn’t want to talk about it so we don’t.”
“I didn’t erase the memory,” Alan told him, “I just blocked it.”
“Why?”
Alan pressed his lips together, then repeated the reasons he always told himself, “He was seven. He was covered in her blood and he wouldn’t stop screaming.”
“What happened?” Scott asked, though his tone indicated he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“I’m not sure. I just got brought in to block his memory. Derek might know more, probably not, he was barely a teenager.”
“Werewolves didn’t…
“No, they found her, got an ambulance.”
Scott nodded.
“He might be ready to remember, he might never be,” Alan told him.
Scott frowned.
“You can ask him what happened,” Alan suggested.
“You just said he doesn’t remember.”
“It might help him remember,” Alan clarified.
“What if he doesn’t want to?”
“Then he’s not ready.”
Scott nodded and gave his shoulder a squeeze, “Do you need anything?”
Alan tilted his head, startled, “You’re not angry with me?”
“You did what you thought was right,” Scott shrugged.
Alan tried for a smile, gave Scott’s hand a squeeze and told him, “I just need a moment. I’ll be fine.”
Scott nodded, stood and got back to work. Alan ran a hand down his face, then stared at the place Peter had stood. He took another slow breath then closed his eyes and said goodbye to the life he would never have. He stood, brushed off his jeans and got back to work.
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