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Peter flinched, watching Derek’s every move. It hurt. It was a physical hurt. It was like the punches previously taken had begun to sting a little harder and thrum just under his skin. Family always hurts harder than anyone else. “I don’t want your forgiveness, Derek. Ever. Don’t you ever forgive me.” He gritted his words through the pain. “I just want you to understand.”

He backed away from Derek further, being pulled slowly into the room he had found so comfortable just a moment before.  He stood in the doorway, unsure if he should continue the argument, or let it end like that.  It all depended on Derek.  He had full control in this moment, and it almost made Peter smile that for once in his life, Derek finally had the control he wanted. 

Peter allowed himself to be hit, it was all he could really do for Derek. Let him take out his anger, let him vent, let him purge. It was easy enough to do. “You’re right, Derek!” he began to shout, “I don’t have any idea what it’s been like!” For the first...

#onceanalpha

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Peter fidgeted for a moment, not really sure how to begin.  He had expected Chris to brush him off, or get up and leave.  What he didn't expect was for the man to turn and actually look at him.  What kind of look did Peter have on his face? He couldn't remember.  And furthermore, he forgot to shave this morning so he probably looked ten times worse.  How embarrasing. 

"Alright, my story.  I want it to be as simple as you think it is.  That would be nice, simple is nice.  But it isn't.  It's not simple, and barely anything ever is.  So, I guess we can start with Laura.  Laura was my niece and she was beautiful. Absolutely stunning girl, both in her looks and in her mind.  She was so terribly bright and wonderful.  She was the one who took over everything.  She put me into the home when I was comatose.  She took Derek to New York with her to meet another pack.  I don't even know if they ever found that pack... Laura was Alpha at that point.  She was so much like her father.  I, on the other hand, was dying.  My brain had been rotting, and my healing factor was starting to lose grip on all the damage.  I had no idea where I was or what I was doing most of the time.  Apparently, for a majority of it, I did nothing.  But then Laura came back to Beacon Hills.  I don't know if you know this about werewolves, Chris, but our natural instinct is to stay alive.  We will do anything to keep on living.  Our minds can fight it, and we could hold out for what seems like forever, but if you are close to death, the beast takes a hold of your head, and you slip out of yourself... That's how it happened.  That's how I killed Laura. Are you still following?"

Peter turned to look at Chris, waiting for any kind of sign to continue his lament. 

A smile fell across Peter’s face.  It wasn’t often that people laughed in proximity to him.  In Derek’s case, it was a snear, and if he was lucky, a groan.  The closest laughter he heard was when he was stalking a couple in the woods, or the children who were currently running around laughing and screaming.  Funny how laughing and screaming seem to coexist so well together…

He took his attention off of Chris, watching the children slowly vanish with their mothers, disapearing into minivans and caravans, every one of them happy and completely content with their lives.  The wave of emotions hit him hard, so hard that he almost flinched, but he wouldn’t.  He refused to show it while sitting next to a man who’s life’s goal was to watch him finally die for good. 

“Well, if you won’t tell yours, would you like to hear mine?” Peter had no idea where that sentence came from, honestly.  It was probably hiding underneath his tongue for hours, patiently waiting for the right moment to escape through his teeth and breath the fresh air of awkward silence.  That was obviously where it came from. 

The only plausible thing to do at this point was to make eye contact.  Peter slowly turned, fixing his eyes on Chris again, this time hoping he would see how much he needed to tell someone anything.  He knew that Chris believed him from the first time he looked over in his direction, but this time was all about him breaking through that stubborn shell he had crafted around himself.  Peter liked to pride himself in his ability to break down people’s walls, and it was probably because his own wall had come shattering to the ground. 

#callofthecode #they put me on the shitty computer #how dare they.

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Peter allowed himself to be hit, it was all he could really do for Derek.  Let him take out his anger, let him vent, let him purge.  It was easy enough to do.  "You're right, Derek!" he began to shout, "I don't have any idea what it's been like!" For the first time, Peter actually raised his voice at Derek.  He was never one to shout, but it seemed the only way to get through to him at this point. 

"Killing Laura sped my healing process, I had no control over it." He whispered that fact. Let it linger across the space between them, finally admitting to his own faults.  "I'll stop talking now so you can continue."  Peter waved him on, a sullen look falling over his face.  He didn't want Derek to forgive him, hell, he didn't even want Derek to be okay with him coming back.  The only thing that Peter wanted was for Derek to understand.  That's all he wanted, but he was terrible at conveying his feelings, it's no wonder Derek couldn't do the same. 

Peter rolled his eyes, used to Derek’s sugar sweet voice of malice. “No, Derek. I don’t want to be in a hotel.” He sighed, watching his nephew barely turn in his direction. He could remember when he was smaller, when he would run around his feet and laugh at his…

#onceanalpha #oh jesus this is getting intense

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The Hale Fire

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There it was.  He'd been waiting for it for a while, ever since he came back.  He supposed that with the whole Kanima ordeal and the hunters running around power hungry, Derek was a little too preoccupied to get to it.  Laura.  Laura was his niece, a bright and beautiful girl, who became a strong and powerful woman.  She also became a strong and powerful alpha.  Perhaps Peter was smart enough to tweak the truth when he would say that the role of alpha fell on him... The only thing that fell on him was Laura's body.  To be honest, he barely remembered any of it.  He will get flashes some nights when he tries to sleep, flashes of red and a scream he wished he didn't know the owner of.  He killed Laura, and he can't even remember if he felt bad about it. 

Peter could be practically and say it was because of the brain injury the fire caused him.  When Peter had started to recover from the burns and the damage, it wasn't really his brain taking over.  Well, it was, but it wasn't thinking the same anymore.  The new brain that controlled him wanted revenge and would do anything for it.  So when Laura came to visit, it was like a target had been pinned on her alpha-red eyes.  Peter's brain took that as a means to an end. 

Peter stared at Derek for a long time, before finally fixing his eyes on the dusty floor underneath them.  He wanted to apologize, but really, how do you say sorry for murdering a family member under a fit of rage and then make a full plan out of your mistake?  The answer; you can't. 

"She loved you," he couldn't stop himself now, might as well get ready to be buried under the house again, "She loved you so so much.  She didn't even blame you. No one did, Derek."  That was the truth, truth counted didn't it? He sure hoped it did. 

Stepping back and away from him, Peter held himself still and vulnerable.  If Derek wanted to beat him and then finish the job he started, now was the time.  At least Peter got to change the curtains in the kitchen, those burnt ones made the food smell disgusting no matter what or where you cooked. 

Peter rolled his eyes, used to Derek’s sugar sweet voice of malice. “No, Derek. I don’t want to be in a hotel.” He sighed, watching his nephew barely turn in his direction. He could remember when he was smaller, when he would run around his feet and laugh at his…

#onceanalpha

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Peter took the younger man's hand, shaking it firmly.  He held on longer than what would probably be considered normal, but it didn't even phase him.  The man's face (or was he a boy) was so familiar.  His hand fit in his just the right way, not in a romantic way, but in a loving way.  The way that hands fit between family and childhood friends.  "My name is Peter.  It's a pleasure... really," he let the sentence trail off and slowly took his hand away from Tyson's.  He furrowed his brows, focusing on the sky outside. 

"So, have you any idea about anything concerning your family? I might be able to help, I've been around here long enough."  Peter felt it was necessary to help him.  Like it was his mision in life, or, this life at least.  He returned his attention to Tyson, smiling serenely.  "I'm here to help." 

Peter watched the younger man, a soft smile on his face. He pitied him. That’s the only word for it, really. Pity. Everyone makes pity out to be such a horrible, condescending word, but in all honesty, it’s so.. human. Feeling saddness for someone else, it...

#tysonhale

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End game.  Everyone in this town has an end game.  For the hunters, it was their demise.  For Gerard... it was power.  Even Derek has an end game, or at least, had one before all this Kanima mess started.  For a while, Peter did have an end game.  His end game was to come back.  Peter wasn't ready to be dead, everyone else in the Hale family was dead (Derek was practically dead inside), but Peter was going to survive.  Peter was going to come back and be there when no one else was.  So, now that he was back, what was his end game?

"I... I don't think they'll ever be sharp enough..."  Peter was expecting a fight at this point, Derek was always good at venting his feelings through his fists.  He pitied the day Derek found someone he cared about as much as he did family; they would be black and blue quite often.  

Peter hated being alpha.  That's what he should have said to Derek.  He should've told him how wrong it felt, how it just didn't fit him well enough.  Peter wasn't the alpha in the Hale family before, and he certainly didn't want to be the alpha again.  By chance the alpha status had fell on him and he used it to his advantage, but, quite frankly, being alpha was hard.  Peter had the strategical brain for an alpha, but he wanted to be quite honest, he didn't have the heart for it.  That's why Derek was the perfect choice.  That's what Peter should have been telling Derek.  He should habe been complimenting him, comforting him, giving him the advice he needs and the advice that family should give.  But no, instead he made a claw joke.  How fucking hilarious.   

Peter rolled his eyes, used to Derek’s sugar sweet voice of malice. “No, Derek. I don’t want to be in a hotel.” He sighed, watching his nephew barely turn in his direction. He could remember when he was smaller, when he would run around his feet and laugh at his...

#onceanalpha #oh god you don't mind that i swore right?

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Yes, I'm just seeing things.  That's obviously the answer.  Yes.  That's it. Of course, why didn't I think of that?

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

#onceanalpha

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You need to stay in more.  What do you do when it rains?

#callofthecode

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A smile fell across Peter's face.  It wasn't often that people laughed in proximity to him.  In Derek's case, it was a snear, and if he was lucky, a groan.  The closest laughter he heard was when he was stalking a couple in the woods, or the children who were currently running around laughing and screaming.  Funny how laughing and screaming seem to coexist so well together...

He took his attention off of Chris, watching the children slowly vanish with their mothers, disapearing into minivans and caravans, every one of them happy and completely content with their lives.  The wave of emotions hit him hard, so hard that he almost flinched, but he wouldn't.  He refused to show it while sitting next to a man who's life's goal was to watch him finally die for good. 

"Well, if you won't tell yours, would you like to hear mine?" Peter had no idea where that sentence came from, honestly.  It was probably hiding underneath his tongue for hours, patiently waiting for the right moment to escape through his teeth and breath the fresh air of awkward silence.  That was obviously where it came from. 

The only plausible thing to do at this point was to make eye contact.  Peter slowly turned, fixing his eyes on Chris again, this time hoping he would see how much he needed to tell someone anything.  He knew that Chris believed him from the first time he looked over in his direction, but this time was all about him breaking through that stubborn shell he had crafted around himself.  Peter liked to pride himself in his ability to break down people's walls, and it was probably because his own wall had come shattering to the ground. 

It was expected, really.  The question was more of a joke than a reality, that’s what his mind continued to tell him as he watched the hunter stumble for a reply.  Really he was the one who wanted to vent.  That was the honest, painful truth.  He’s been holding so much hatred and anger and saddness, and their was no one to blame… at least, not anymore.  Derek would be easy to blame, hell, all of Beacon Hills had already done that, but Derek was the only family he really had left.  He couldn’t push him away.

And then there was Chris.  It would be a breeze to blame this man.  This man that stood by dumbstruck while Peter’s whole life crashed down, quite literally too.  But what was the point? There was none.  Peter could easily go the movie drama route and put all the blame on himself, but he wasn’t ready to be any Leonardo DiCaprio.  Granted, he could probably win an Oscar before him. 

Sighing, Peter fixed his stare on the jungle gym that had captivated Chris’ attention earlier.  “Well, I’ve got quite large ears… the better to hear your life story with.”  He smiled at his joke, it was a really bad one, and he swore he could hear Derek grimacing all the way back at the house, but he still had to say it.  Anything to make the silence less painful.  Who knew that two men at a playground could be so goddamn depressing?

#callofthecode #i am literally the worst worker in the face of the universe #also spell check doesn't exist on ie!! #i hate this world

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Peter watched the younger man, a soft smile on his face.  He pitied him.  That's the only word for it, really. Pity. Everyone makes pity out to be such a horrible, condescending word, but in all honesty, it's so.. human.  Feeling saddness for someone else, it doesn't get anymore human than that. 

"Well, this town is quaint.  That's really.. it.  Besides the whole hunter/werewolf showdown that goes on behind the curtains, but that's never really a problem when buying real-estate."  He smiled, shaking the water out of his own hair, allowing himself to conform to the typical werewolf persona of being exactly like a dog. "You never said your name, or you did and I completely ignored it but I doubt that's the case." 

He waited patiently.  He wanted to help the boy, he really did.  Maybe he'd been brain dead and dead too long, it was making him a good person again. 

He laughed right away. This man was funny, to say the least. “No, I’m not new in town to be exact…” Peter looked up to the sky, closing his eyes against the droplets of water. “I’m pack, just… not alpha.” It was nice to be able to say that. Having the weight of...

#tysonhale

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He laughed right away.  This man was funny, to say the least.  "No, I'm not new in town to be exact..." Peter looked up to the sky, closing his eyes against the droplets of water.  "I'm pack, just... not alpha."  It was nice to be able to say that.  Having the weight of an alpha on one's shoulders was not so glamours as Derek tried to make it look.  Sure, the car made him like like a stud but it's hell being an alpha.  There's a sweet calm that comes from just being one of the numbers in the back. 

"The question is really about you. What's an Omega doing in a town infested with crazy hunters.  Isn't that a little risky?" He was interested in him now.  The smell that burned the back of his nose was what spiked it, and now it wouldn't let up.  He wanted to know who he was, where he was from, and why Beacon Hills? Seriously, what is everyone's obsession with his town.  It really really isn't all that great.

He started to walk towards an over hang, the rain getting far too hard for his hair (he could feel the gel liquifying and dripping down the back of his neck.)  He gently took the younger man's elbow pulling him under as well.  It was a simple gesture, but he couldn't quite figure out why he allowed himself to do such a thing.  Old habits are hard to break, he assumed. 

It was obvious at the moment the man turned to face him that he was dealing with another wolf. The question that remained was if the other man had yet to figure out if he himself was a wolf. Judging by the stare that Peter was now recieving, he obviously had.

...

#tysonhale

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It was expected, really.  The question was more of a joke than a reality, that's what his mind continued to tell him as he watched the hunter stumble for a reply.  Really he was the one who wanted to vent.  That was the honest, painful truth.  He's been holding so much hatred and anger and saddness, and their was no one to blame... at least, not anymore.  Derek would be easy to blame, hell, all of Beacon Hills had already done that, but Derek was the only family he really had left.  He couldn't push him away.

And then there was Chris.  It would be a breeze to blame this man.  This man that stood by dumbstruck while Peter's whole life crashed down, quite literally too.  But what was the point? There was none.  Peter could easily go the movie drama route and put all the blame on himself, but he wasn't ready to be any Leonardo DiCaprio.  Granted, he could probably win an Oscar before him. 

Sighing, Peter fixed his stare on the jungle gym that had captivated Chris' attention earlier.  "Well, I've got quite large ears... the better to hear your life story with."  He smiled at his joke, it was a really bad one, and he swore he could hear Derek grimacing all the way back at the house, but he still had to say it.  Anything to make the silence less painful.  Who knew that two men at a playground could be so goddamn depressing?

Peter laughed.  It wasn’t a strong laugh, not like the ones that usally escape his mouth, but softer.  The laugh was barren, like it took effort to push enough air out of his lungs to make it even audible.  “That’s true, but how many of them know what I am?” 

His son, no, the child ran back to his mother after she called several times. She took his hand and together they walked off to their car.  Peter tried to pretend he was in the car, waiting for his wife to hurry up so they could make it to Derek and Laura’s performance in the talent show, but the man driving the car was too sullen, too down to business.  Peter was never like that, so it couldn’t work. 

He finally turned to look at Chris, giving him just enough attention to know that he’s being watched, but not enough to make him feel the need to mentally scar these children with their first witness of murder.  He looked tired.  Most men of their age do, it comes with the years.  But this kind of tired, it was deeper than that.  It was like life had given Chris Argent a roundhouse kick and then left him in the mud.  Peter knew the feeling.

“Feel like venting?”

#callofthecode #i'm glad you read them #east of eden is really good #charles is a great big bag of dicks #in the book

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Wow you do live a sad life.  What do you watch then, Rachel Ray?

Neither do you.  How often do you watch Andrew Zimmerman? Tell the truth.

#onceanalpha

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Peter laughed.  It wasn't a strong laugh, not like the ones that usally escape his mouth, but softer.  The laugh was barren, like it took effort to push enough air out of his lungs to make it even audible.  "That's true, but how many of them know what I am?" 

His son, no, the child ran back to his mother after she called several times. She took his hand and together they walked off to their car.  Peter tried to pretend he was in the car, waiting for his wife to hurry up so they could make it to Derek and Laura's performance in the talent show, but the man driving the car was too sullen, too down to business.  Peter was never like that, so it couldn't work. 

He finally turned to look at Chris, giving him just enough attention to know that he's being watched, but not enough to make him feel the need to mentally scar these children with their first witness of murder.  He looked tired.  Most men of their age do, it comes with the years.  But this kind of tired, it was deeper than that.  It was like life had given Chris Argent a roundhouse kick and then left him in the mud.  Peter knew the feeling.

"Feel like venting?"

Peter could feel the twitch of Chris’ hand.  He could feel that way he tried to reach for his gun, but finally caught the common sense bug and resisted the urge to start a shoot out at a playground.  Peter relaxed at that point, because honestly, what was Chris going to do surronded by children? The two men were adults. They could be polite.

“You know I can ask you the same.  It’s not like the playground is an average meeting place for men influenced by the supernatural.”  Peter kepts his eyes on one particular child, not long enough to draw the child or the mother’s attention, but enough so to catch a few fleeting glimpses of the boy who so resembled his own son. 

The silence was too calm between them.  It shouldn’t be that way, right?  They should both feel threatened, angered even, but the air between them, it was light. Maybe it was the playground.  It’s honestly impossible to be threatening when children are running in front of you with sand stuck to their knees.  Yeah, that had to be it. 

#callofthecode #it makes me sad that you don't reply to my tags #i'm needy

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Neither do you.  How often do you watch Andrew Zimmerman? Tell the truth.

#callofthecode

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Peter could feel the twitch of Chris' hand.  He could feel that way he tried to reach for his gun, but finally caught the common sense bug and resisted the urge to start a shoot out at a playground.  Peter relaxed at that point, because honestly, what was Chris going to do surronded by children? The two men were adults. They could be polite.

"You know I can ask you the same.  It's not like the playground is an average meeting place for men influenced by the supernatural."  Peter kepts his eyes on one particular child, not long enough to draw the child or the mother's attention, but enough so to catch a few fleeting glimpses of the boy who so resembled his own son. 

The silence was too calm between them.  It shouldn't be that way, right?  They should both feel threatened, angered even, but the air between them, it was light. Maybe it was the playground.  It's honestly impossible to be threatening when children are running in front of you with sand stuck to their knees.  Yeah, that had to be it. 

Sometimes Peter liked to pretend that he was the big, bad werewolf that parents told their children was just a fairytale.  He liked to stalk the woods at night, occasionally making a small growl in the back of his throat, just loud enough for any passerbys to hear, but quiet enough to not draw any attention to himself.  He would follow runners when they took late night jogs, never to hurt, but always to strike fear.  It was a fun game to play, and given what little he was allowed to do by Derek when he put his alpha pants on, it made his new life a little more interesting. 

But there were other times as well.  There were times when he pretended he still had a family.  He would walk to the store and window shop, thinking of what he could buy his wife for an aniversary gift.  He would go to the toy store down the street and mentally check off what each of his children would recieve for a Christmas present.  And on days when even with all of his imagination he couldn’t remember what his children sounded like when they played, he would go to the playground. 

On these days he tried to laugh at himself.  A grown man in a playground, waiting around with no particluar reason, watching children play and watching parents fret, it was ridiculous (and could probably be taken for pedophilic.) His instincts told him to run to the woods, to hide behind the trees and watch and wait.  His instincts wanted him to be feared.  But his heart, that nasty little thing that was so precious to him, was what ruled over his entire body on days like these. 

To his surprise, when he arrived at the only playground in the town, he wasn’t the only mildly pedophilic man there.  Chris Argent, the only hunter that ever sided with his prey was sitting alone on a bench, watching the playground as if his eyes were permanently trained on that one jungle gym.  Peter didn’t particularly like Mr. Argent, but he didn’t like him either.  Unlike Derek, he understood that all hunters were not alike, similar to how all werewolves are nto alike.  Chris wasn’t like his family, but he was still a part of it. 

Taking a very risky oppurtunity, Peter sat down next to Chris, just to see what would happen.  He didn’t say anything, barely made any movement, just… sat.  He watched the children, and his old habit sunk in.  He could see his kids, running around, trying their best not to claw each other while the normal kids were watching.  They laughed and screamed and did those annoying things that children do, but you still love them anyway.  He had almost completely forgotten Chris was there. 

#callofthecode #By the way my muffin was delicious and spell check still doesn't work