Fic: Complicit
Story Type: Fanfiction
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters: Derek Hale, Peter Hale
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: Coersion, emotional manipulation, phsyical abuse, emotional abuse, victim blaming, post trauamatic stress, canonical character death.
Summary: A glimpse at Derek between trying to fight Peter in the hospital and joining him at the beginning of “Co-Captain”. A look into the kind of interaction he had with Peter and why he decided to follow Peter's lead.
“Hush, Derek.” Peter whispers into his hair. “I know it hurts. Just give it time.
Derek bites back a whimper, then curses himself for it. He’s safe, he’s whole. He’s with his alpha, where he belongs, and still he can’t let go? In penance, he nestles in closer to Peter, buries his face in Peter’s chest. He can still feel his bones knitting together, sluggish and strained from fighting Peter at the hospital.
“I know. It’s hard. You’re confused. Just let go. Let the wolf tell you what to feel, how it’s supposed to go.”
Derek obeys. He has to. He closes his eyes and lets the wolf in him luxuriate in Peter’s dominance, his strength. Alphas protect betas. Betas give alphas strength. Balance. He wills his strength into Peter, into healing him, making him better, making him the man he once was. He wants this. He needs this so much it fills his senses, the rush and the roar and the taste and the smell of it.
The human in him keeps rebelling, though. It won’t stop sinking into the Laura-shaped hole somewhere in the space between them. He pushes closer to Peter, tries to crowd out that space, but the hole remains, bright and sharp and unyielding. It keeps him from connecting, from forming the bond his wolf is howling for.
Peter’s fingers start carding through his hair. He’d been ordered to wash the gel out, nothing but natural scent and feel, so it’s tangling limply around Peter’s knuckles and even though the nails are blunt, Derek still feels like there are claws sinking into his scalp.
He hates it. He hates the damaged human in him too tainted by fear and mistrust to let Peter back in. He wants this to work. He wants normality, the security of a pack again. He whines, and Peter hushes him again.
“I’ve got you now, Derek. No more running, okay?”
Derek shivers against him, and his sister’s name dances on the tip of his tongue and he forces it back.
“I saw what you did, by the way. Laura’s grave.” Derek almost sobs in relief because if Peter brings it up, it’s okay. It means they can remember her. “You were a good boy, Derek. You did everything right.”
Derek’s wolf yips in delight and Derek tilts his head, exposing his neck. Peter huffs a laugh and his breath tickles against Derek’s skin.
“And, I know it must’ve been hard. Digging the grave alone, the wolfsbane burning your hands as you laid the spiral. It’s a heavy burden with a pack, but to take that weight as an omega…”
Derek flinches. He’d been avoiding that label for weeks, ever since Laura died. He’d been clinging to Peter even then, proof of his pack, proof he was not helpless and alone. And then there was-
“Scott.” It’s all he’s managed all night, since Peter had used his voice and his eyes and his power to gentle Derek after the fight. After Derek’s misguided attack on his alpha.
“Scott will come in time, don’t worry about that.” Peter smiles, and if it’s a bit tight, a bit insincere looking, well Peter’s been through more hell than Derek and Derek can’t even bring himself to speak most days, let alone smile. “After all, brothers fight all the time. He’ll get over whatever grudge he’s holding against you soon enough.”
Derek lets his wolf bask in that, in the idea of a brother, of a pack to surround and protect and warm him again. And he’ll do better this time. He’s older now, wiser, he won’t be fooled so easily this time. All he has to do is keep his eyes open and let Peter fix everything.
“You’ve done well on your own, Derek, but it’s over now.” Peter keeps saying his name. Derek desperately wants to find comfort in it, in Peter’s familiar voice, in the warm affection surrounding it like he hasn’t heard in years. Laura always sounded tired. He wants to, but he can’t. Peter doesn’t sound like Peter. He sounds far away, and the human keeps flinching from it.
“Well, almost over.” Peter says, and this is it. Orders. Derek can follow orders, he’s good at it. He’s always obeyed Laura, even when he didn’t want to. Good betas follow commands. Even ones that don’t make sense. Ones like stay in New York, Derek. I’ll be back as soon as I find out more. Even ones they regret later.
“All that remains is the final piece. And you know what that is, don’t you Derek?” Derek wants to pull away, to hide from Peter’s cold eyes and empty voice, but he forces himself to press closer. He compromises by hiding his face in Peter’s shirt.
“Oh yes. We both know who’s really to blame.”
The claws aren’t a surprise, and Derek doesn’t try to avoid them. They sink into his bicep and he can feel the blood oozing up around them. The pain is sharp and immediate and he has to grit his teeth to keep from crying out but he endures it. His alpha wants him to endure it.
“And that’s why you’re going to help me kill her. You’re going to complete the vendetta you swore over Laura’s grave, and you’re going to rid us of the woman who burned our lives to the ground.”
“Yes.” Derek whispers, gasping the word out through the pain in his arm. Peter’s claws dig deeper and Derek feels his eyes start to sting but he wills them to stay dry. “I’m sorry.”
Peter’s other hand, human and soft, goes back to petting Derek’s hair. “Oh, is that what you want? Forgiveness?” He tuts. “You know I can’t do that, Derek. Not while we’re sitting in the charred remains of our home, not when my niece is buried in some haphazard human grave, all because of you.”
He digs his claws in harder and this time Derek does yelp, his body spasming away from Peter so that he has to fight it back into place, back into Peter’s arms.
“Were you ever going to tell me, Derek?” Peter asks. “All those times, coming into my room, babbling at me about your problems, when were you going to tell me you were the reason I was in that chair?”
Derek doesn’t answer. He has no answer. He was going to take Kate with him to the grave.
“One thing you can say about Kate.” Peter smirks. “At least she’s honest. She came and told me everything, not long after you and Laura abandoned me. But you don’t have to worry about that.”
Derek fists his hands into the fabric of Peter’s shirt. The gouges in his arm are going to take hours to heal, and he can feel Peter’s claws wriggling inside of his skin.
“All you need to worry about, is doing exactly as I say. And once you help me kill Kate Argent, and then the rest of the hunters, then you can talk to me about forgiveness.”
Derek nods. Peter smells different now. Part of it is familiar, the way he always smelled when Derek was a boy, warm and soft like freshly laundered sheets with a tang of copper. Part of it is the hospital smell he’s grown accustomed to. But the oil from the leather, the persistent choking scent of smoke, those are new, and they make his human dizzy and his wolf anxious. He breathes them in, tries to make them familiar and right by force.
“Say it.” Peter snaps, and Derek flinches so that the claws in his arm rake down a bit, drawing bloody lines in his skin.
“I will.” Derek vows, pledges himself to Peter and the Hale pack. “I swear. I’ll help you.”
“Good boy, Derek.” Peter praises him, and it feels like sunlight on his skin. The claws retract, and his body begins its sluggish attempt at healing. It has a long way to go.
“You’re a good boy.”
…
Later, when he’s kneeling over Peter’s body, as charred and broken and raw as the ones in his nightmares, he tries not to see the man Peter had been. He can’t quite manage it.
Scott is desperate behind him, shouting and begging, and Derek pauses. Not because he’s changing his mind, no. But because Scott will never forgive him for this. Will never be able to see past his own little dramas and tiny fears. But Derek-
Once Peter is dead, he will officially be the last of the Hale pack. It shouldn’t be him, but Laura would never forgive him if he doesn’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it.
In that moment, that pause before he takes what should never be his but couldn’t belong to anyone else, he wants to ask Scott if he could do it. Would it be easy for him? After all, Peter’s just a monster to Scott. Scott will never look at him and see the man who carried children on his back through the house just to annoy their mom, or the man you could talk to about girls, about confusing urges and dreams, when your own parents were out of the question. Scott never saw the Peter in a pink plastic tiara sipping imaginary tea with a six-year-old, or teased him for singing along to Patsy Kline while doing dishes. Scott never knew any of that.
But Scott wouldn’t be able to do this. Scott wouldn’t understand the crime Peter has committed, wouldn’t know the sacrifice of taking the last remants of Laura into himself, knowing that Peter would remain tangled inside of them. Scott doesn’t have to prove his worthiness tonight, his right to claim the Hale pack as his own. Derek does.
Peter’s right. He has already decided. He decided the day he laid the spiral around half of Laura’s body. This is his penance and his birthright, and no fledgeling beta is going to take it away from him to chase a fairy tale. Scott is an accident, an outsider, and Laura’s legacy does not belong to him.
He looks at the last member of his family, and he allows himself to feel hate. He looks at the monster he created and he does the only thing he can do. He puts it out of its misery.
One swipe, and Derek severs the last tie he has to the once venerable Hale line. He stands, feels the same rush of strength and instinct Laura felt six years ago, and he finally embraces his status. He is omega. He is alpha. He is the end and the beginning.
He is Derek Hale, and he is alone.
But not for much longer.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters: Derek Hale, Peter Hale
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: Coersion, emotional manipulation, phsyical abuse, emotional abuse, victim blaming, post trauamatic stress, canonical character death.
Summary: A glimpse at Derek between trying to fight Peter in the hospital and joining him at the beginning of “Co-Captain”. A look into the kind of interaction he had with Peter and why he decided to follow Peter's lead.
“Hush, Derek.” Peter whispers into his hair. “I know it hurts. Just give it time.
Derek bites back a whimper, then curses himself for it. He’s safe, he’s whole. He’s with his alpha, where he belongs, and still he can’t let go? In penance, he nestles in closer to Peter, buries his face in Peter’s chest. He can still feel his bones knitting together, sluggish and strained from fighting Peter at the hospital.
“I know. It’s hard. You’re confused. Just let go. Let the wolf tell you what to feel, how it’s supposed to go.”
Derek obeys. He has to. He closes his eyes and lets the wolf in him luxuriate in Peter’s dominance, his strength. Alphas protect betas. Betas give alphas strength. Balance. He wills his strength into Peter, into healing him, making him better, making him the man he once was. He wants this. He needs this so much it fills his senses, the rush and the roar and the taste and the smell of it.
The human in him keeps rebelling, though. It won’t stop sinking into the Laura-shaped hole somewhere in the space between them. He pushes closer to Peter, tries to crowd out that space, but the hole remains, bright and sharp and unyielding. It keeps him from connecting, from forming the bond his wolf is howling for.
Peter’s fingers start carding through his hair. He’d been ordered to wash the gel out, nothing but natural scent and feel, so it’s tangling limply around Peter’s knuckles and even though the nails are blunt, Derek still feels like there are claws sinking into his scalp.
He hates it. He hates the damaged human in him too tainted by fear and mistrust to let Peter back in. He wants this to work. He wants normality, the security of a pack again. He whines, and Peter hushes him again.
“I’ve got you now, Derek. No more running, okay?”
Derek shivers against him, and his sister’s name dances on the tip of his tongue and he forces it back.
“I saw what you did, by the way. Laura’s grave.” Derek almost sobs in relief because if Peter brings it up, it’s okay. It means they can remember her. “You were a good boy, Derek. You did everything right.”
Derek’s wolf yips in delight and Derek tilts his head, exposing his neck. Peter huffs a laugh and his breath tickles against Derek’s skin.
“And, I know it must’ve been hard. Digging the grave alone, the wolfsbane burning your hands as you laid the spiral. It’s a heavy burden with a pack, but to take that weight as an omega…”
Derek flinches. He’d been avoiding that label for weeks, ever since Laura died. He’d been clinging to Peter even then, proof of his pack, proof he was not helpless and alone. And then there was-
“Scott.” It’s all he’s managed all night, since Peter had used his voice and his eyes and his power to gentle Derek after the fight. After Derek’s misguided attack on his alpha.
“Scott will come in time, don’t worry about that.” Peter smiles, and if it’s a bit tight, a bit insincere looking, well Peter’s been through more hell than Derek and Derek can’t even bring himself to speak most days, let alone smile. “After all, brothers fight all the time. He’ll get over whatever grudge he’s holding against you soon enough.”
Derek lets his wolf bask in that, in the idea of a brother, of a pack to surround and protect and warm him again. And he’ll do better this time. He’s older now, wiser, he won’t be fooled so easily this time. All he has to do is keep his eyes open and let Peter fix everything.
“You’ve done well on your own, Derek, but it’s over now.” Peter keeps saying his name. Derek desperately wants to find comfort in it, in Peter’s familiar voice, in the warm affection surrounding it like he hasn’t heard in years. Laura always sounded tired. He wants to, but he can’t. Peter doesn’t sound like Peter. He sounds far away, and the human keeps flinching from it.
“Well, almost over.” Peter says, and this is it. Orders. Derek can follow orders, he’s good at it. He’s always obeyed Laura, even when he didn’t want to. Good betas follow commands. Even ones that don’t make sense. Ones like stay in New York, Derek. I’ll be back as soon as I find out more. Even ones they regret later.
“All that remains is the final piece. And you know what that is, don’t you Derek?” Derek wants to pull away, to hide from Peter’s cold eyes and empty voice, but he forces himself to press closer. He compromises by hiding his face in Peter’s shirt.
“Oh yes. We both know who’s really to blame.”
The claws aren’t a surprise, and Derek doesn’t try to avoid them. They sink into his bicep and he can feel the blood oozing up around them. The pain is sharp and immediate and he has to grit his teeth to keep from crying out but he endures it. His alpha wants him to endure it.
“And that’s why you’re going to help me kill her. You’re going to complete the vendetta you swore over Laura’s grave, and you’re going to rid us of the woman who burned our lives to the ground.”
“Yes.” Derek whispers, gasping the word out through the pain in his arm. Peter’s claws dig deeper and Derek feels his eyes start to sting but he wills them to stay dry. “I’m sorry.”
Peter’s other hand, human and soft, goes back to petting Derek’s hair. “Oh, is that what you want? Forgiveness?” He tuts. “You know I can’t do that, Derek. Not while we’re sitting in the charred remains of our home, not when my niece is buried in some haphazard human grave, all because of you.”
He digs his claws in harder and this time Derek does yelp, his body spasming away from Peter so that he has to fight it back into place, back into Peter’s arms.
“Were you ever going to tell me, Derek?” Peter asks. “All those times, coming into my room, babbling at me about your problems, when were you going to tell me you were the reason I was in that chair?”
Derek doesn’t answer. He has no answer. He was going to take Kate with him to the grave.
“One thing you can say about Kate.” Peter smirks. “At least she’s honest. She came and told me everything, not long after you and Laura abandoned me. But you don’t have to worry about that.”
Derek fists his hands into the fabric of Peter’s shirt. The gouges in his arm are going to take hours to heal, and he can feel Peter’s claws wriggling inside of his skin.
“All you need to worry about, is doing exactly as I say. And once you help me kill Kate Argent, and then the rest of the hunters, then you can talk to me about forgiveness.”
Derek nods. Peter smells different now. Part of it is familiar, the way he always smelled when Derek was a boy, warm and soft like freshly laundered sheets with a tang of copper. Part of it is the hospital smell he’s grown accustomed to. But the oil from the leather, the persistent choking scent of smoke, those are new, and they make his human dizzy and his wolf anxious. He breathes them in, tries to make them familiar and right by force.
“Say it.” Peter snaps, and Derek flinches so that the claws in his arm rake down a bit, drawing bloody lines in his skin.
“I will.” Derek vows, pledges himself to Peter and the Hale pack. “I swear. I’ll help you.”
“Good boy, Derek.” Peter praises him, and it feels like sunlight on his skin. The claws retract, and his body begins its sluggish attempt at healing. It has a long way to go.
“You’re a good boy.”
…
Later, when he’s kneeling over Peter’s body, as charred and broken and raw as the ones in his nightmares, he tries not to see the man Peter had been. He can’t quite manage it.
Scott is desperate behind him, shouting and begging, and Derek pauses. Not because he’s changing his mind, no. But because Scott will never forgive him for this. Will never be able to see past his own little dramas and tiny fears. But Derek-
Once Peter is dead, he will officially be the last of the Hale pack. It shouldn’t be him, but Laura would never forgive him if he doesn’t do it. He doesn’t want to do it.
In that moment, that pause before he takes what should never be his but couldn’t belong to anyone else, he wants to ask Scott if he could do it. Would it be easy for him? After all, Peter’s just a monster to Scott. Scott will never look at him and see the man who carried children on his back through the house just to annoy their mom, or the man you could talk to about girls, about confusing urges and dreams, when your own parents were out of the question. Scott never saw the Peter in a pink plastic tiara sipping imaginary tea with a six-year-old, or teased him for singing along to Patsy Kline while doing dishes. Scott never knew any of that.
But Scott wouldn’t be able to do this. Scott wouldn’t understand the crime Peter has committed, wouldn’t know the sacrifice of taking the last remants of Laura into himself, knowing that Peter would remain tangled inside of them. Scott doesn’t have to prove his worthiness tonight, his right to claim the Hale pack as his own. Derek does.
Peter’s right. He has already decided. He decided the day he laid the spiral around half of Laura’s body. This is his penance and his birthright, and no fledgeling beta is going to take it away from him to chase a fairy tale. Scott is an accident, an outsider, and Laura’s legacy does not belong to him.
He looks at the last member of his family, and he allows himself to feel hate. He looks at the monster he created and he does the only thing he can do. He puts it out of its misery.
One swipe, and Derek severs the last tie he has to the once venerable Hale line. He stands, feels the same rush of strength and instinct Laura felt six years ago, and he finally embraces his status. He is omega. He is alpha. He is the end and the beginning.
He is Derek Hale, and he is alone.
But not for much longer.