It isn’t a career choice Peter consciously made to make and sell methamphetamine.
It just –
It just happened.
Sarah had laughed one night late while they organized their research into something presentable to the committee that meth cooks made what they did in a year in a month. Peter had hmmmed, more focused on the presentation he was preparing for the lead researcher when she continued to yammer about this documentary she saw on TV.
I can do that, he thinks in passing, it’d be easy.
He spends two nights researching the process to the best of his ability and well, he has everything he needs in the lab.
He supposed someone could say he fell into it.
This is how Scott is blackmailed into working for Peter Hale.
Beacon Hills is a university.
It’s a nice university as far as they go.
Their academics are prime. The students are smarter than whips. At least the ones that got in for their academics. The university’s standards were low when it came to students with sports abilities, but money had to flow in somehow and the many sport teams on campus bought the new computers in the computer lab, so there’s that.
The city of Lupo is the tenth largest city in the United States.
There’s a lot of crime that takes place.
Drug activity, gang activity, murders, rapes, thefts, assaults.
Scott is honestly just an idiot who desperately wants the lacrosse team to like him. Jackson is the captain of the lacrosse team, and apparently a meth freak.
And he wants Scott to pick up his drugs.
Four thousand dollars feels like a lot of money and he trembles a little at the weight of it in his jacket in this part of town. He’s heard all about La Guardia. People have died here. He’s seriously freaking out and he’s sure every criminal in La Guardia can smell his fear and will pounce him any second for the four thousand dollars in his pocket.
He’s making his way to a shitty apartment. The hall smells like piss and there’s a woman with too much make up and animal print clothing just standing there, staring at the wall, and Scott has to swallow hard. He wishes he had stayed in his dorm room with Stiles.
Stiles was right.
Jackson was a douche, but Stiles’ initiation master had been Danny and everyone and their mom knew Danny was the lesser of two evils. All Stiles had to do was perform in a drag show at Danny’s favorite club. Not like Scott who had to buy illegal drugs in La Guardia.
The door he knocks on timidly opens seconds later. He’s invited in and told to wait quietly by the rather scary looking cholo who didn’t look like he’d mind breaking Scott’s face with a hammer.
It’s in the seconds he’s waiting for the cholo to come back with Jackson’s ounce of meth that doors begin to bust downstairs, and at first he thinks, hey, the door’s unlocked, no need to break it down, when cholo comes back with a fucking gun and Scott doesn’t even have seconds to gape before a middle age man bursts from the room too.
“It’s a fucking raid!” The man shouts and the formerly empty room becomes alive with commotion.
There’s women with vibrant red mouths, men with tattoos, and general menaces suddenly fleeing and the apartment door’s broken down and Scott knows one thing for sure, he’s so kicked out of Beacon Hills University if he’s caught at a crack den by the police. His mom is going to kill him.
He rushes to the kitchen and thank fuck there’s a window leading to the fire escape. He just has to open the locked window and well, Scott thinks his future takes precedence over his hand right now but has the forethought to bunch his jacket’s sleeve around his hand before attempting to break it.
This is how Scott meets Peter.
This is the beginning of Peter hijacking his entire life and twisting it from something normal and average to this shitstorm.
“You were there too,” Peter pants, smirk twisting at his mouth. “You don’t think they won’t arrest you? Because you didn’t buy anything? Because you were only buying for a friend?” Scott swallows hard at the man’s mocking tone. “After all, McCall,” Scott’s eyes go wide. “If your Chemistry professor reports you for drug use to the dean, you’re as good as sentenced.”
This is how Scott learns Peter the meth cook is the Chemistry professor of the class he never bothered going to because Stiles’ notes were gold.
Fuck his god damn life.
Stiles and Derek meeting was nothing epic.
Derek was standing behind Peter’s shoulder, glaring at Scott like he was some fucked up college kid that had no business running drugs. Stiles had been standing by Scott’s side, praying to God they’d both walk out of there alive.
To be honest, neither one of them really acknowledges the other even existed. Derek is focused on Scott and Stiles is focused on his chemistry professor/meth cook that the extra person escapes them both.
Their relationship, however, develops into something epic.
Peter and Jackson fuck Scott up. He’s started using and no matter what anyone says, peer pressure is not a god damn excuse. It’s so completely unacceptable Stiles has no clue what he’s going to do yet but it’s going to be terrible and mighty and get his friend back.
He kind of wasn’t expecting Derek Hale to shove a forearm across his throat on a Thursday night.
“Peter wants to know where his money is.” Derek says mild as can be which is a total opposite from his burst of violence Stiles can’t decide if it’s the forearm choking him or the shock that keeps him quiet.
He slaps at Derek’s chest and tries prying the arm off his throat. Apparently, it was the forearm choking him that was stopping the normal flood of words.
Derek lets him go and he sort of gasps a lot, and it burns, air burns and how is this his reality right now?
“I don’t know where he is.” He snaps because he has a death wish, clearly. He’s scrambling against the wall because Derek is still right there in his space like he thinks he belongs there and fuck him. “I haven’t seen him since Tuesday night.” It’s only Thursday. Stiles isn’t Scott’s mother and he isn’t worried, not yet. Besides, there was the time Scott was missing for a week and no one said a god damn thing, not even the teachers and what kind of shit university was this?
Derek is back in his space, his breath hot and minty on his face. “Funny thing about that Stilinski, that’s the night Isaac swears he saw Scott handing out party favors.”
Isaac. God damn it. Isaac was one of the guys on the lacrosse team, on second string with Stiles actually, and if he’d known this whole time the fucker was with Peter he wouldn’t have partnered up with him. The guy also happened to be Scott newest best friend in mixing business with pleasure. He was one of the dealers that jacked up his customers’ prices so his own drugs were free. Smart and efficient but those were two things Stiles has learned Scott was lacking.
“I don’t know where he is.” Stiles repeats. “Last I saw he was with Isaac. I left. Some of us are going to B.H.U. for school and not to run drugs.” Even if that’s all he seems to be doing with his spare time. Everyone on campus heard about what happened to one of the auto majors. Like hell Stiles was letting Scott run drugs by himself. That got you squished under six cars at the junkyard.
Derek nods slowly and he thinks for a moment he’ll back the fuck off and leave Stiles to his panicking and homework before hauling Stiles close to his face, “I guess we’re going looking for him, huh?”
This is how their epic adventures searching for Scott begins.
It gets to the point they can skip the posturing most nights and Stiles will just meet Derek out at his sweet-ass Camaro. They’ll check Scott’s favorite spots and hospitals while also collecting money from Isaac, Boyd, Matt and others he tries his best not to learn the names to. It involves a lot of bad coffee, humiliating conversation, too many bruises and Scott’s high ramblings as Derek helps Stiles stumble him into bed.
“Have you told Peter?” Stiles ask one night. They’re sitting in the car and it’s so cold he can see his breath. He really should invest in warmer gloves and a scarf if Derek is going to insist on shutting off the engine and heat to conserve gas while they wait for one of Peter’s dealers for his pick up.
“Told Peter what?” Derek asks, keeping his eyes trained on the street.
“That I’ve taken over for Scott.” He says. That Scott is getting high more than he’s selling.
Derek’s eyes flicker to him and hold his gaze. Stiles likes Derek’s eyes, but will never admit it. Ever. They’re this shade of green that sometimes he swears is really blue but it’s intense, like some kid got their watercolors mixed up. “He’s getting his money. He doesn’t really need to know anything else.”
Stiles nods and tries not to feel relaxed and safe. There’s nothing safe about this.
Allison Argent meets Scott McCall and he’s a beautiful mess.
He’s in her Art History class that meets once a week for three hours. It’s a humanities credit and she was actually interested in art. She had photographs and drawings taped all over her side of the room, and her roommate had even complimented the pictures. It was nice. College was nice. It was like finding her people.
She had been to the class twice before she saw Scott.
He sat behind her and since she was always ten minutes early, she never paid attention to who sat behind her. But the third class, she forgot her pen and her mechanical pencil was out of lead. She turned around and saw him and she froze.
His forehead was pressed against his arms and he must have sensed her eyes, because he jerks up and pins her with a hazy gaze. He blinks wildly for a moment and he looks so wonderfully wrecked her mouth feels dry. All the boys on campus had look GQ worthy and completely put together. This boy was ruffled and rumpled with red rimmed eyes and such a shy smile, she couldn’t help but smile shyly back.
“Can I borrow a pen? Or a pencil?” Allison asks.
“Uh, yeah! Sure!” He looks around, his hair flopping around and it curls slightly at the ends and she wants to touch it. She watches him bite his lip and he gives her his pen. “Here you go!”
“What will you use?” She asks with a bright smile, trying not to laugh.
“I’m fine,” He smiles and it’s adorable. “I was just going to sleep anyway. My roommate takes her Thursday morning class and lets me read his notes, which is way better than the book or her lectures. It actually makes sense.”
“Okay,” She says and turns back to the front.
She looks over her shoulder again when she hears his head thump and miss his arms if the dull thunk of wood was any indicator. “Ow.” He hisses and freezes seeing her look at him again. “Uh, hi, again. Don’t mind me.”
She’s helpless to resist and sets up a study date with him.
Like a ball of multicolored yarn, their relationship begins to unravel.
Allison is so busy learning about how different he is from all the other boys she’s been with, learning his moods and flavors that she doesn’t notice until it’s staring her in the face.
He’s a drug absuer; he’s exactly the type of boy her parents warned her against. Her dad is a DEA agent, and it’s stupidity and love that keeps her with Scott. He needs her. She can help him kick this, get him out of trouble. A tiny part of her loves him even more for being so broken. He is completely different from anyone she’s ever loved before.
He's the only person she's ever loved that she comes to regret.
Scott meets Lydia in group and she’s a train wreck.
Allison insists the day he’s released from the hospital. “I love you! I don’t want to lose you before I’ve hardly had you!” She cried and her tears gutted him, hurt him worse than the anything has before. Even last night’s scare.
Lydia, he thinks, probably used to be beautiful. Her red hair is dull and tangled in its ponytail, the skin of her face too tight and mouth pinched. He thinks she used to be beautiful because she knows how to dress, how to apply her makeup so she’s alluring and she is way prettier than some of the girls he’s seen in La Guardia.
“I’ve been sober for twelve days.” She says to the group.
The next time he goes, a week later, she says, “I’ve been sober for three days.”
He can’t help but be drawn to her. He goes to these meetings for Allison, but they aren’t helping. At all. They don’t make him feel any happier or give him less of a desire to light up. (They do the opposite. He hears these people describe what they want, how they crave and he shakes with it. They don’t give him a choice. Not really.) Lydia seems to have the same problem he does.
If Lydia is a train wreck, Scott is a twenty car pileup.
They get to talking during a break, and he’s following her into the bathroom, using water for his pipe and she has a lighter and it’s so fucking easy, so fucking good that he pushes her against a wall, she puts her mouth over his and they devour each other. Trying to suck the life from each other, and her legs are around his waist and she feels good inside, hot and it’s the best feeling the world. He couldn’t be happier right now than if she was Allison.
When Allison found out about the drugs, she refused to have sex with him if she thought he was high. He misses it. How heightened everything felt. It’s the only heaven on earth Scott knows.
It feels amazing. Lydia is all slick, suffocating heat trying to strangle his dick and her pants are in his ears, “Come on,” clear and her heels pressing into his ass with each thrust. “Harder.” And he does. Uses all his strength to fuck her until she can’t form words at all, until she’s as blissed out on sex and meth as he is.
He -- he doesn’t fuck Lydia unless he’s high. Stiles once said he was like two different people after he’s lit up and if that’s true, he isn’t really cheating on Allison, not really. It’s just, this way he can be her goofy, lovable Scott who is gentle and considerate of her in bed and also be the fucked up, loser Scott who is positive he can drown his problems in sex where he leaves bites and bruises.
He doesn’t mean to be the way he is.
Matt is an asshole with a grudge and Jackson is going to go to jail.
As cool as you please, Matt walks into La Guardia precinct and hands them a bag full of Whittemore’s evidence. Pictures, taped conversations, a log, everything he has to nail the bastard. He doesn’t say why he does it and Jackson refuses to speak without a lawyer.
Jackson is expelled from Beacon Hills University, and even his father’s generous donations couldn’t keep him in and the school launches a investigation into the lacrosse team and Jackson’s fraternity.
Jackson’s trial starts and the headlines declared that the Whittemore heir was being blackmailed by the drug dealer and Jackson was the wronged party. That it was all a horrible misunderstanding.
It doesn’t help the prosecution when they can’t find Matt, “Yes, because a self serving a drug addict is clearly more reputable than my client, a university student with a GPA of 4.0,” and he later shows up dead in the woods, staked to a tree, a triskelion carved into his chest and tongue cut out.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out about her?” Peter snarls.
Peter is an unassuming guy. Slight of stature and soft looking. He’s the type of teacher that stays after class for questions on his lesson and keeps his office door open and corresponds daily with his students. It doesn’t stop Scott from flinching when Peter grabs him by the hair and slams his head against a wall.
“I bet you think you’re so smart fucking a DEA agent’s daughter. But you’re not, Scott. You’re pitiful moronic.”
Scott winces, pain splitting his head open.
Laura got married young against Peter’s wishes to an asshole that beat her to death.
Derek has the scars that relationship left him with on his back that Stiles kisses reverently like he wishes he could make them disappear. He doesn’t mind them. Just hates the reminder that he found his sister’s body in the kitchen, bloody and broken while the asshole was watching Maury in the living room. He likes the scars on his knuckles better, the ones he earned when he beat the asshole’s face in with reckless abandon. It’s why he does this, he explains quietly to Stiles who used to be so naïve and innocent to his world. Peter took care of it, hid it and fixed it for him. Derek owes Peter, and well, they’re family.
Sometimes, family is all you have.
I know. Stiles whispers. But now you have me too.
Scott loves Allison, really loves her. He went to Narcotics Anonymous for her. He’d do anything for her.
Including wear a wire for her father.
But Peter isn’t cooperating. At all. All he’s doing is talking about chemistry and Stiles is talking about the same stuff, and his heart is in his throat, because Agent Argent does not want to hear Stiles talking about chemistry homework. He shakily rubs his hands together, feeling sweaty and nervous and he must look it. He feels twitchy.
Derek is standing by the window, staring into the parking lot. He tries again.
“So, what’s my route tonight?” He asks Peter.
“You don’t have a route.” Is all Peter says.
Stiles is looking at Derek and Derek is looking back, his face grim.
“What? Since when? Dude, I promised I’d make up for all the times I flaked. You know I’m good for it. I promise not to let you down. Where do you want me selling?”
Peter clicks his tongue, Derek moving to whisper into Stiles’ ear. Stiles abruptly stands and he doesn’t know why, just that Stiles hasn’t looked this serious and scary since the first night Scott freaked and told him everything. “I think I’ve got it now.” Stiles says, looking at Peter. “I’m going to go do my lab write up. Thanks Professor Hale.”
Derek and Stiles leave together and Scott watches in confusion, unable to explain the sad, worried look Stiles levels him over his shoulder.
“Scott, I know you’re confused.” Peter says. “Stiles has mentioned you’ve been having personal problems, and I won’t forget that. But I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Scott feels the wire like fifty pounds and laughs with hysteria tinged laughter. It’s sharp and ugly and Peter is smart. Always has been. Smarter than Scott.
“How?” He asks simply because he wants to know how he was fucked from the get go.
Peter smiles charmingly, “I was a young man myself. I understand how important it is to impress a girl and her parents.”
Stiles is the son of a small town sheriff.
Derek finds this out early in their acquaintance and dutifully reports back to Peter. Peter just laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard all week. Derek didn’t understand why, but he thinks he does now.
The crime rate in Stiles’ hometown is off the charts compared to Lupo. There’s physical, alcohol and drug abuse running rampant in this town. The first night, Stiles sells all of his “product” to kids back from college, at the bars and at a club for eighteen years and older. Small towns apparently have a large underbelly. Now, Derek understand how Stiles sells so quickly.
But mostly Derek likes the feeling of safety at the sheriff’s house when Stiles drags him home that Memorial weekend. It’s surreal, stepping into this small town, into this home where pancakes are made everyone morning and morning cartoons are sacred. He can’t get over the fact the sheriff greets Derek warmly, “Stiles has told me a lot about you,” even in light of the age difference between him and his son. “A professor’s aide.” He sounds impressed and Derek knows better than to snort. He supposes that was one way to legit what he is to Peter. “Hopefully not one of my son’s?”
“Not since first semester.” Derek says back to a slight smile.
They spend the weekend relaxing, unconcerned by what happens in Lupo and Derek loves learning new things about Stiles.
He learns that Stiles has had experience with drugs before he ever met Derek. “I only sometimes sold my Adderall, okay? It’s not like it was a thing. But come on, have you seen gas prices?”
Or that the kid knows his way around a gun. “Dad made me learn. He was always terrified a man eating deer was going to carry me away when I was younger.”
Or that he knows how to make waffles, “How have you not had waffles? Are you human? Maybe a futuristic cyborg?”
It’s a good weekend.
One that Derek promises Stiles while the younger man sleeps they’ll have more of.
Stiles and Scott are roommates and started messaging each other in early summer.
They have a lot in common and they’re both on the lacrosse team and seriously, computers are effing awesome for matching him up with Scott. Like the questionnaire he answered was actually useful. The bond they form is the type reserved for five year olds that bond over toy cars in the sandbox, but they’re eighteen and instead it develops into this unhealthy co-dependent thing where when Scott breaks down and tells Stiles, who is scrubbing at the makeup on his face with half an ear, about being blackmailed into selling drugs, Stiles doesn’t think twice before forcing Scott to promise never to sell without Stiles there too.
Their friendship is the type that saves lives and ruins them.
Derek has killed seven people and each one has deserved it, but none as much as the man he’s letting live.
There are only so many things Stiles can pretend about Derek. There was a weekend of good that is lost in months of bad where Derek made a promise. It doesn’t matter if he never said the words out loud. Derek loves Stiles. Loves being with him.
He’s not going to scare Stiles away over this.
“Please don’t come for me.” Derek asks Peter softly. “I don’t want to kill you. You’re my uncle and I love you, but I love him more Let us go.”
Peter laughs around his broken teeth. “Go. Take your little spitfire with you.”
Derek nods, relieved. He calls 911, demanding medical attention be sent to the house. Someone got hurt. A gang war maybe. Please. Just help.
“I knew this day was coming. You always were blind, Derek.” Peter says when Derek settles him more comfortably. “Knew when you started lying to me about Scott’s routes. I’ve been planning for this.” Derek throws the papers that would incriminate himself and Peter in the fireplace and shoves the rest that can’t be burnt in the false panel in the closet under the stairs. He has seven minutes, he estimates before help arrives. “I’ve been grooming Jackson to take over for you.” Derek stills slightly in surprise. “You just have to do me one more favor.”
“What is it?” Derek says when he’s finished cleaning the room up.
“I need you to find Lydia Martin.”
The first time Stiles deals with Scott, he spent three minutes staring at the red graffiti like it would reveal the mysteries to the universe.
The only mystery in the universe he can think of later, is what happens when people die? A man is holding a knife, the point staring at Scott. “Give it to me.” The man must have been able to smell how green they were, Stiles figures. What easy targets they made.
What easy prey.
Stiles always suspected he’d die in an alley that smelled like urine, which makes it all the more surprising when he doesn’t.
Scott attacks the man, hitting the knife out of his hands first before laying some monster blows to the guy’s face. Stiles picks the knife up as soon as it clatters on the floor. Scott hits the guy’s head hard against the cement and looks up to Stiles afterwards in relief. “He’s still breathing.”
“That’s good.” Stiles hears himself say. “ Let’s try the Taco Bell parking lot. The lacrosse and football team will be there. We’ll sell an ounce at least.”
“Okay.” Scott agrees breathing heavily. “Sounds good.”
There are worst things, Boyd wants to believe, than finding your junkie girlfriend passed out next to her own vomit.
It’s hard to remember what all those things are when he’s in the ER, but he recalls the list he makes every time he has to sit in these chairs.
His grandma dying.
Erica being raped again.
Failing out of B.H.U.
Stealing from Peter.
Derek finding out Erica was using again.
The lab’s fumes kill me.
There were worse things in life than Erica nearly O.D.ing again.
(Nevermind that when he was sitting in these chairs for Isaac, Erica’s fingers entwined with his own, Erica O.D.ing was at the top of his list.)
Junior year, Stiles moves out of the dorms and into Derek’s apartment in La Guardia.
“It’s safer for you.” Derek says as an excuse. “I’d be closer if you need me.”
Stiles smirks because he knows Derek.
He knows the people in his dorm are beginning to realize Derek is a shady character because of Allison. She hadn’t been quiet in her accusations. It doesn’t make Derek uncomfortable. He ignores them, but they’re starting to talk about Stiles now too. About how Derek spends days at a time with Stiles in his tiny dorm room. Stiles’ classmates are beginning to take notice of how long Derek has been with Stiles. How Derek must actually love Stiles. Stiles also knows the dislocated shoulder a 'customer' gave him when he followed Stiles home on a rare night Derek was away makes Derek furious.
“Just say it.” Stiles taunts. “You love me. You don’t want to be without me. You want me to wake up next to my face in the mornings.”
Derek glares and Stiles isn’t expecting Derek to do anything else. It makes him laugh. The quickest ways to make Derek uncomfortable was to mention the f word and people dressed up as Disney characters trying to hug him. But Derek surprises Stiles. “Yes.” Derek snarls. “Now shut the fuck up and get your stuff in my car.”
Stiles is stunned by the admission, his mouth opening a little. He feels sucker punched and nothing could have stopped him from grabbing Derek tightly by the arm with his free hand. “I—me too. You know that right? I know I don’t say it but.” Stiles shrugs helplessly and winces when his shoulder gives a twinge.
Derek glares harder. “I know. I’ve always known. Now stop hurting yourself.” He makes an irritated sound. “Just get in the car. I’ll get your stuff. You might actually break your arm if you do it.”
Scott drops out during his second semester of college, and Isaac invites him to live with him.
They sleep most of the morning and afternoon away, and spend the evening and night working and partying.
It’s easier to juggled his day life and night life.
He wakes up at seven A.M. to meet with Allison and walk her to her first class. He always brings her breakfast. Sometimes, on the mornings she’s too tired to go or is feeling sick, he’ll crawl into bed with her and they’ll both sleep until two p.m. Most days she goes to class, but she doesn’t mind that he sleeps in her bed waiting for her to get back from her classes.
“I work in La Guardia.” He tells her when she asks. “For this guy, Derek and his uncle. I sometimes work as a janitor.” He shrugs, remembering his lies. “Sometimes help bartend. It just depends what they need me to do.”
“It doesn’t sound worth dropping out of school.” Allison says apologetically.
Scott thinks about all gun he’s felt pressed to the back of his head, the knife that he was stabbed with and the worry he causes his mom. “The money’s good.”
She drops it because he’s happy and she’s happy and he has money to spend on the things they want.
Around the evening, he’ll take Allison out. Maybe they do dinner, or go to the movies or to a frat party. Scott is selfish enough to admit he likes the evenings he gets her all to himself the best. When they go to the campus parties, he has to work. Most nights, she’s going to bed around ten. He’ll hold her until she falls asleep.
That’s when he meets with Stiles or Isaac and he starts working.
He doesn’t do very well. Not by himself. Not like how they sell.
Stiles can sell it all in one night just by knowing where to go and who to talk to. Scott is usually too busy watching Stiles in awe as his friend slips the glass into people’s hands and pulling wads of money back with his retreating hand. Stiles usually has Scott watching his back and holding the product. “It’s stupid for one person to have both the drugs and money on him. If they get one of us, they get all of it.” Stiles says logically.
Isaac has a whole show he performs. He gives what he calls party favors to people to get them hooked. “Some people just need a taste.” Isaac smiles. “That extra push.” Isaac usually invites a whole bunch of people back to their place for a party and is constantly dolling out glass to people envious of those who got freebies and are free and happy. Isaac usually has Scott exchanging with his steady customers in the background.
“How can you afford to just give some of it away?” Scott asked once when they first met. He’d held on to an ounce his entire winter break, Derek showing up and dragging him to Peter. Peter had laughed when Scott admitted he was having problems selling it. Peter had told Scott to learn from Isaac.
“Who usually helps you?” Peter had asked.
“No one.” Scott had answered quickly. Stiles had been very firm never to mention his name to Peter unless Scott absolutely had to. “The lacrosse team usually buys most of it.” He had lied. “But since they’re out of town…”
Peter had looked amused that Scott would dare lie to him, but it was the glare Derek leveled him with that stilled Scott from saying Stiles’ name when Peter asked again, a threat in his voice. Derek knew who helped Scott and he hadn’t understood why Derek was protecting Stiles.
“I raise the price.” Isaac shrugged. “Peter and Derek don’t care as long as they get their cut. Here, have some more.”
Living with Isaac is the best and worst thing to happen to Scott.
Jackson knew Lydia before Peter got his claws into her soul.
She’d been some math prodigy on her way to bigger and better things than Beacon Hills University. Jackson had been in awe of her as much as he hated her. She’d burnt brightly in his eyesight.
They used to fuck under the bleachers, in his car and in empty classrooms. He hated her as much as he loved her. Would answer her furious screams with angry shouts of his own until campus security was called on them. She had a restraining order placed against him once and he nearly pressed charges when she dragged her nails down his face. She ignored the restraining order in favor of cheering at his lacrosse games, holding a sign that says ‘Go Jackson!’ in glitter. He dropped the charges when he can’t stand the idea of her in jail. Then she took that fucking Chemistry class with Dr. Peter Hale.
Everyone had heard about Peter the Wolf. The shadow that used to cook for Kane before Kane was violently killed. No one actually ever saw Peter the Wolf. A rumor. Most people knew if they wanted to find the good stuff, to find a guy named Derek. Jackson knew the guy. Had Derek’s number on speed dial for those days he needed extra. Just extra everything. Maybe extra life.
Jackson hadn’t realized Dr. Hale as Peter the Wolf until his trial and his dad’s lawyer is replaced by a man with a thousand dollar an hour fee who would only reply, “Dr. Peter Hale retained my services for you” when asked. He doesn’t connect Derek to Dr. Hale until Derek picks him up after he’s been acquitted.
“What the fuck?” Jackson had snapped.
“Peter wants to see you.” Derek had said.
“And why the hell would he send you?” Jackson had demanded. Matt had been a dealer Derek recommended to him when Derek got higher on the food chain.
“I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced, Whittemore.” Derek had said, smirking. “My name is Derek Hale. My uncle would like to talk to you about your job prospects.”
He wishes every day he’d known to connect Peter the Wolf with Dr. Hale. Maybe he could have saved Lydia from him. He lost track of her slowly that semester until he’s lost her completely. He heard she graduated after he had been expelled and then she disappeared.
“She’s Peter’s special little junkie whore by now.” Erica sneers when Jackson asks about her..
He keeps wishing, even when he sees her for the first time in a year and she’s the cook Derek introduces offhand.
Danny knows how to handle a drunk hookup that won’t leave him alone. He knows how to handle Scott better.
After Allison is accepted into the FBI academy and she escapes Scott. Changes her number, has her mail redirected to her parents’, doesn’t speak to anyone from campus. She’s determined to change her life for the better. Scott, as sad as it is, isn’t for the better.
(He did the same when he realized how far down Jackson and Lydia were going to drag him down.)
They were recruited for the academy at the same time for different reasons. Danny had been less than safe with the databases he’d been exploring and was approached that way. Allison had shown exemplary aptitude.
They’ve both lost friends in Lupo to the same monsters.
It’s why when Scott shows up in Virginia, asking for Allison, Danny simply says, “She died. Undercover operation gone wrong.” and shuts the door.
Allison sits on their couch, pale but strong and he joins her to hold her hand.
Scott’s Allison died the day she left Lupo.
Lydia has been on a self destructive path since she was fifteen. ‘Acting out.’ Her parents’ therapists said. ‘Just a stage.’
She meets Jackson first at their freshmen mixer. He pisses her off and gets a hand up her skirt an hour later. She loves his body, his attitude. He drives her nuts and knows exactly all the best parts of her to hurt.
She meets Peter next. He’s in his thirties and intelligent. When she tells him about Mina Rees, he counters with Carl Sagan. She falls in love with his mind. He refuses to touch her, even when she can see it in eyes he wants to. That’s okay, as long as he keeps speaking to her.
She meets Scott after Peter. Peter was all about science. He would appreciate her fall down as she experimented with candy glass every time her life felt too tiny. She’s in love with his feelings. How he cares about people and feels guilty and upset. She can live through him a little when he tells the group how he’s ruining his best friend’s life by involving him and later when he fucks into her about his girlfriend Allison.
He whispers about the girl and her long brown hair and how he likes to run his fingers through it when he pulls on Lydia’s. He tells her about Allison’s kindness and how they first met and Lydia imagines she’s this Allison, that she’s capable of being sweet to someone and demands Scott tell her he loves her. “I know you don’t mean it.” She tells him after. “I like to hear it. If it makes you feel better, pretend I’m her.”
He never fails after that to tell her. “I love you, fuck, Allison, I love you.”
She continues that way until she graduates. She fucks other guys and do the drugs that make her happy, but remembers Jackson and Scott the best.
Then she meets Peter the Wolf.
Dr. Hale is the one staring at her when Erica drags her to meet the largest producer of methamphetamine in the state. Erica is busy tattling about Lydia not paying her tab – for science, she wanted to see what would happen – and Peter watches her with the same eyes he had watched her with when they’d converse. Slightly pained and hungry.
“Leave.”He told Erica. “We’ll work something out, I’m sure.”
Erica left the room, smug and vicious. Lydia wanted to laugh at her. Wanted to ask the girl if she’d ever dreamt about fucking her boss like Lydia had.
They fuck and love and converse and it’s everything Lydia wanted from him and more. She quits the drugs when Peter tells her to because she doesn’t need them. Not how she needs Peter to keep being hers. He makes her his right hand when his nephew leaves. When he goes to prison, he leaves her in charge.
Lydia has always been on a self destructive path and she isn't about to get off any time soon.
(There’s a secret ending to her story that very few people know about. Peter holds the secret in his arms for thirty minutes before saying, "You know we can't keep her."
"I know." Lydia says. "Her name is Mina Ree Martin."
"Hale." Peter says abruptly. "We should make it Hale. Derek-- Derek is leaving Lupo with Stiles. He can take her with him. She won't be ours, but she'll be close."
"Alright." Lydia says softly and kisses her lover.
They were going to build an empire never to be forgotten. Sacrifices had to be made.)
Allison gets her FBI Academy acceptance letter and briefly looks back before running far away.
She wants to stay with Scott so badly it hurts. ‘He can change’ is a mantra she repeats every day. She believes it until the day she finds out about Lydia and the drug dealing – Scott's a drug dealer, oh my god.
Scott comes up with the idea to set his boss up and work for her dad. Allison cries and nods and tell him that will make it all better to Scott’s obvious relief. She sends her acceptance letter and begins packing as soon as Scott leaves to meet with Peter to go stay with her grandfather.
Scott's a drug dealer, oh my god on repeat.
Scott doesn’t understand why Peter keeps him around.
Not at first.
Peter knows Scott had worn a wire. Peter knows Scott would have sold them all out.
Scott doesn’t put the pieces together in an instant like he knows Stiles would have. He isn’t that smart. He can’t make a complete picture from only a few pieces. He would ask Stiles, but his friend left town and didn’t leave a forwarding address. Scott had known Stiles for five years and is just realizing, Stiles never said where his hometown was.
But he figures it out.
Jackson is hanging around Peter. Jackson is doing the job Derek abandoned when Stiles left. Scott had never believed either man had been in love with the other, but Scott is used to being wrong about what he thought he knew about Stiles. Scott would have done the same thing for Allison if only he knew where she was.
Scott meets Lydia again. She’s beautiful in ways she never was when he’d seen her at group. Her hair is long and curly and red. She looks healthy and vibrant. He can’t believe she’s the same girl he used to fuck in a public bathroom for a cheap thrill. Her smile is dark and secretive and she gives him and Jackson the same look before going to Peter and kissing him on the check and then goes to stand next to Boyd.
Isaac and Erica are clean and strong. They had spent six months at a rehab up state. Isaac is al nerves and shy smiles unlike when Scott knew him. When Scott had known him, Isaac had been biting and confident. Erica, like Lydia, appeared to have regain her beauty.
“Scott, you’ve finally showed up.” Peter greets. “Have I introduced you to the future? This is Lydia Martin, your new boss. Boyd, her lab assistant. Jackson as our middle man and of course, Isaac, Erica and you as my faithful dealers. Let’s try to keep it cleaner this time, yes children?”
Peter has Scott sell him out. Peter makes Scott testify against him.
And Scott has a hand in expanding their production to Strangeways Prison and he can laugh until he cries.
Derek used to fuck this girl named Kate; Peter killed her.
It had been a family bonding activity.
They had wrapped her unconscious body in a sheet and dropped her in the middle of the busiest La Guardia intersection. Amidst the sounds of car horns and yelling, Derek drenched her in gasoline until the sheet was soaked. Voices had quieted and the horns had stopped when people realized there was a body wrapped in the sheet.
Peter had raised his arms, insuring he had all of their audience’s eyes and then set her on fire.
Some had taken video and for days, all anyone would play was her burning and screaming as the residents of La Guardia watched in stunned silence. The reports helpfully nicknamed Derek and he The Wolves of La Guardia. Derek tilting his masked head back and howling, Peter joining in a moment later. Six months later, the video was playing again when the woman's identity was released: DEA Agent Kate Argent, working on an unofficial undercover operation.
“You once told me everyone pays attention to theatrics.” Derek said when Peter asked him why he howled. “Now the DEA knows better than to send their whores here.”
The media runs with the story. A journalist breaks into the dead woman’s apartment and discovers her accounts of her seducing a sixteen year old boy and how she had planned on using him to break into the drug ring that way. It shakes the DEA up and forces a change of leadership and policies. The media begins to ask, “Are the Wolves of La Guardia really monsters? Or are they angry parents seeking justice for their Cub?”
Peter is sentenced today.
The judge tells him he’s to serve three to nine years at the Strangeways Prison.
The D.A.’s hand is clenched in a fist and Peter shakes his lawyer’s hand.
All the murder charges, all the drug charges, prostitution charges, racketeering charges, intimidation charges – all of it whittled down to the one charge that guarantees Peter’s release in less than a decade.
Lydia smirks her hair tickling her cheek despite its braid and turns off the TV. “Time to get back to work.” She calls.
Jackson answers her with a grunt and swings off the table he’d been sitting on. “Let’s go.” He says to Erica and Isaac.
Boyd pushes himself from the wall and follows her back to the lab.
Today, a new gang is born in Strangeways Prison.
They call themselves the Wolves of La Guardia.
They smuggle drugs into the prison and are profiting.
Peter Hale is like the caramel center of a Rolo. In the middle of it and spreading everywhere.
DEA Agent Christopher Argent has spent the past decade searching for Peter the Wolf of La Guardia.
He remembers how the man popped up on their radar, selling methamphetamine so pure a man could confuse it with glass. Peter had been small business back then. Everyone in the office had been sure someone would kill Peter before he could really impact the market and instead they focused on Kane and the drugs coming from the south. Chris wishes he could back and shake his younger self, scream in his face, “This is the man that will kill your little sister! This is the man that will push Allison across the country! This man is too intelligent for you to ignore! He will take all the things you love and leave you with nothing!”
He remembers seeing the videos of his sister dying, of her being condemned by everyone. “She molested a kid to try and make her case.” The Administrator says quietly when Chris punches one of his coworkers for dirtying his sister in his hearing. “She had the sense to leave his name out of all her records. She only ever referenced him as The Cub and his uncle as Peter the Wolf. But Chris what she did was wrong. We wouldn't have been able to use any of it.” Years later, when he has Peter Hale in his interrogation room he’ll laugh because his sister had given Peter’s real name. All this time, the most obvious clue staring at them all and being used by everyone.
What Chris is trying to say is, he knows a lot about Peter Hale and his family.
It takes time for Chris to find Derek Hale – The Cub.
Derek left Lupo two years before Peter was arrested. La Guardia whispers it was with Peter’s blessing. No one knows where he would have gone. Chris roughs Scott up more than once to try finding more information out. Once, Scott came freely to him. Now Chris has to use force, but that’s okay. He needs to find his sister’s other killer.
“Derek is Peter’s go between man. All the money goes through Derek, all of the meth.” Scott had explained nearly two years ago.
There had been something Scott had been holding back then and Chris gets out of Scott now using his daughter as leverage.
"I'll tell you where she is." Chris says flatly.
“He’s probably with Stiles. My old roommate and best friend in college – Something Russian Stilinski. They got involved my freshmen year.” Scott’s eyes are earnest and expectant. “Where is she?”
Chris has done a lot of horrible things and has sacrificed a lot to hunt down the Wolves of La Guardia. His daughter is just one more thing.
It’s why he can’t believe he’s sitting in his car in the suburbs watching a family play together in the front yard.
"Who's the my favorite princess?" The older man dressed in a sheriff's uniform asks. "That's right! Princess Mina is!" The man swings the little girl up and cuddles her close.
"Are you spoiling my daughter again?" Scott's friend -- Chris recognizes him from the pictures in Scott's room -- asks. "Because if you are, you can take her with you to the office."
Chris' target is gathering the pieces to a pink plastic teaset and stuffed animals from the front yard. When he hands the little girl a stuffed dog, Chris can see the family resemblance. The same dark hair, same light eyes and sharp cheekbones. Chris loses his breath and thinks The Wolf has a Mate and Cub. He wants to believe Peter sent nephew and his daughter from Lupo for safety reasons and he's merely waiting to bring his daughter into the fold. But he sees Derek kiss Scott's friend on the cheek and disappear into the house. Scott's friend watching Derek disappear with a grin and then turns to his father, arms outstretched for the little girl. Chris watches the family say goodbye and the sheriff drive away in his car.
Chris sits in his car long enough for the battery to die and night to darken.
He walks away.