A/N: Okay, so this starts with the Peter/Stiles scene in season 1 episode 12 and goes from there with a serious canon divergence.
"I like you, Stiles," Peter admitted, voice strangely light for the situation. "Since you've helped me, I'm going to give you something in return. Do you want the bite?"
"What." Stiles didn't understand. His brain was stuck on the fact that a vengeful murderous werewolf liked him. Peter, super hot Alpha, wanted to give something to him because he was thankful for Stiles's help. How was this his life?"
"Do you want the bite?" Peter repeated, slowly. "If it doesn't kill you, and it could, you would become like us."
Dry mouthed, Stiles struggled to come up with an answer. He needed words, preferably words that made sense, but he could tell Peter was getting impatient so at this point any words would do. "Like you."
A glimmer of doubt sharpened the blue of Peter's gaze. "Yes, a werewolf. Would you like me to draw you a picture?"
Stiles could feel his cheeks heating as Peter's rudeness caused a heavy flush to crawl up his face. He knew that Peter had thought he was special, that there was something within Stiles that made him worthy of being offered the bite instead of being forced to take it. He also knew that his sudden slowness was causing Peter to doubt himself.
"That first night in the woods I took Scott because I needed a new pack. It could have easily been you," Peter said quietly, his voice calming Stiles's panic. "You'd be every bit as powerful as him. No more standing by his side, watching him become stronger and quicker, more popular, watching him get the girl. You'd be equals. Maybe more."
Stiles stayed quiet, watching as Peter stretched out a hand and grabbed his wrist. He knew that he didn't want to be a werewolf, but he didn't know how to tell Peter that. Peter, the beautiful Alpha who was pulling Stiles's wrist closer and closer to his mouth.
"Yes or no?" Peter asked quietly, staring at Stiles as he slowly let his fangs descend.
It felt as if time stopped- as if Stiles and Peter were suspended in a frozen moment. And it was when that moment continued that Stiles ripped his arm out of Peter's grasp.
"I don't want to be like you," Stiles spit out shakily, feeling his heart stutter and knowing Peter would call him out on it.
Just like he predicted, Peter's gaze on him sharpened and his brow furrowed. "Do you know what I just heard? Your heart beating slightly faster over the words 'I don't want'. You may think you're telling the truth but you are in fact lying to yourself. Now, why is that, Stiles?"
"I. . ." Stiles licked his lips nervously. Was he really going to do this? Catching sight of Peter's interested gaze, he knew that he was. "I don't want to be a werewolf. I just want. . ."
Peter tilted his head and flared his nostrils as he caught Stiles's scent, the normal mix of electricity and rain with a new hint of spice. That spice was familiar to Peter in that it clung to teenagers persistently, but it was new to Stiles's unique scent. He pulled Stiles close, moving his hand from the boy's wrist to his neck, watching as Stiles's body responded with dilated eyes, flushed cheeks, and a stuttering heartbeat. "What is it, Stiles? What do you want?"
"You," Stiles whispered, his heart pounding in honesty. "I don't want the bite. I just want you. I want to be yours."
At the soft confession, Stiles let go of all the tension he'd been carrying practically since Scott had gotten bit. His body slumped forward until his head rested against Peter's shoulder, his face turned into the man's neck. For some reason, Stiles knew that Peter would take care of him and protect him. All the insanity of the past few months were Peter's doing, so if anyone was going to stop it, it would be Peter. He knew he was right when the man's arms came up and wrapped around him, pulling him tight against Peter's body.
"It's alright," Peter murmured, running his hands over Stiles's back softly. "I understand now, Stiles. I'm sorry I haven't treated you properly, but I will. It's alright."
Stiles was a little confused at Peter's sudden attitude change but appreciated it nonetheless. Now he knew he was right in trusting his instincts when it came to werewolves. He had known since the beginning of all this craziness that Derek was nothing more than a puppy acting as a wolf to get people to do his dirty work and now, here with Peter who was the prime example of a strong wolf, he was glad that he wasn't blind like Scott. If he had been, he would have been destroyed.
"I'm going to bite you," Peter murmured, pressing his lips against Stiles's ear. "Don't worry, you won't become a werewolf. It'll just be a tether from me to you. It'll help me take care of you the way you deserve to be."
Pulling away slightly, Stiles looked up at Peter curiously. "How will it do that? Where are you going to bite me? Does the placement of the bite affect the way it works?"
Peter smiled down at Stiles softly. "The bite will go on your neck so that it becomes the right kind of bond. A bite on the side is a turning bite, as is a bite on the wrist but with a few differences. Our bite will allow me to know your emotions beyond what I can scent. It will also take your emotions out of your scent for all other werewolves. They'll no longer be able to scent you beyond your natural smell. In extreme cases, you might not have a scent at all."
"Werewolves can smell emotions?" Stiles asked, mortified.
"Only the trained ones can decipher what they smell," Peter comforted. "As it stands, that's only Derek and myself."
"But when you bite me, you'll be the only one?" Stiles clarified. At Peter's nod, Stiles smiled and tilted his head just the slightest bit. "Do it."
If Stiles hadn't been watching closely, he would've missed the flash of hunger in Peter's eyes before the Alpha shot forward and buried his face in Stiles's neck.
"You're sure," Peter spoke against Stiles's warm, flushed skin.
"Yes," Stiles gasped, his breath hitching as sharp fangs pierced him. A low buzz spread over his skin, from the bite outward, and his blood grew hot. He brought shaking hands up from his sides to grasp Peter's shoulders tightly. He could feel himself sliding away from consciousness, quicker and quicker, but right before he fell completely, he could feel a tightness around his heart, jerking a little. It was sort of like someone had tied a string around his heart and was pulling it to tie around someone else's. Someone like Peter. "Oh, Peter. . ."
It was dark. And heavy? Where was that horrible ringing noise coming from?
Stiles groaned, curling into a ball and pulling a pillow over his head to block out the racket. He let out a sigh of relief and relaxed slightly when it stopped, only to whimper when it started again a few minutes later.
Giving up, he threw a hand out to grope around the headboard for his phone. He answered it blindly, already hating the person on the other end. "'Lo?"
"Stiles!" Scott greeted loudly, his panicked voice causing waves of pain to crash through Stiles's head. "Where are you?!"
"Are you crazy?" Stiles mumbled tiredly. "I'm in my bed. Why?"
"Why?!" Scott practically screeched. "Dude, you just disappeared from the dance and Lydia's in the hospital and so much shit went down with Kate and Peter."
"Peter?!" Stiles repeated, his voice cracking. Memories of the night before flooded his brain, snippets so clear it was as if they were happening all over again. The car ride, the snarking, the bite! Remembering what he had felt right before he had passed out, Stiles searched inside himself for that tether only to whine quietly. He could feel the knot around his heart but the string felt as if it was just stretching into an abyss. "Scott, what happened with Peter?"
"He killed Kate," Scott answered sadly. "But it's okay because Derek killed him and now he's the Alpha."
"Peter's dead," Stiles said to himself, feeling the knot tighten around his heart before his mouth went dry. "Derek's the Alpha?"
"Scott, I have to go," Stiles barely got out before ending the call and tossing the phone away. All he could focus on was the knot and string and what it all meant. "Peter's dead."
It was over. Minus Lydia being hospitalized, they were at the end they had all wanted. Scott wanted to be free from the Alpha, Peter had wanted all the people responsible for the die, and- it was clear now- Derek had obviously wanted to be the Alpha. Everyone got what they wanted. Except Stiles.
"This isn't taking care of me," Stiles whimpered, his voice thick with tears. He brought his knees to his chest and tucked his face away, feeling the tears slip down his cheeks and soak his pants. "This isn't taking care of me at all."
A/N: Sooo. . .yay? I'm thinking of making the chapters after this just sort of go along with the episodes, but different with the way Stiles is now. And then, eventually, it will get into a plot when Peter gets back. So, please review?