alisonk23

Inspired by reading TW fic and listening to the Dixie Chicks album Home, especially the song "A Home" which was actually written by Maia & Randy Sharp. Very passing relation to anything canon. I read the fic, but don't watch the show.



A HOME
________

Stiles closed the door behind himself, but the wind caught it and it slammed shut. He winced slightly at the echo that the wooden floors and lack of soft furnishings created in the house that he had never really finished decorating.

Moving to the kitchen, he dumped his bag and set about getting something to eat. Bowl of cereal in hand he started wandering through the house, as he did most evenings. It wasn’t a big house. He’d been able to buy it and move out of his childhood home thanks to an unexpected legacy from Claudia’s side of the family, but it was still only a small property with one room downstairs, plus kitchen, two bedrooms, bathroom and tiny yard. Still, Stiles had believed it could become a home.

Maybe that had been true, until he let Scott and the others get inside his head and make him doubt Peter’s sincerity. Now Peter was gone and the house was just a house. Somewhere to go at the end of the working day.

His wanderings took him eventually to the one good piece of furniture in his living room, the desk. The desk Peter gave him. The one that Stiles suspected was a genuine antique and not the reproduction everyone else believed. Peter hadn’t said one way or another. He’d been gone by then, the desk delivered a day after the letter.

After all that had happened, no one in Beacon Hills had been prepared to back up Stiles’ gut feeling - and the feeling in his heart - that Peter was sincerely falling for him. Had fallen already, actually. Scott and most of the others were blunt about it:

“He’s just using you. I don’t know why or what for, but he’s up to something. He always is.”

Derek hadn’t been that harsh, but he looked doubtful, even though as usual he didn’t really say anything. But by then he & Cora were halfway out the door themselves and indeed they actually left just after Peter did.

So Stiles, deeply attracted to Peter but not really understanding how that could be, given the history, had dithered. He did want to believe Peter but he didn’t have confidence in himself anymore and if everyone else thought it wasn’t real, maybe they were wiser than him? His pride started to kick in. After the nogitsune disaster, the last thing Stiles needed was to be used by someone else. He pushed Peter away and, perhaps seeing more than people might have given him credit for, Peter went.

He left Stiles a letter and the desk. Sitting down at the desk, where his laptop sat, Stiles fished the letter out of the cubbyhole he kept it in and opened it up for the thousandth time.

“Stiles. I am going away today. I have told you how I feel about you and I don’t see that changing. But you don’t believe me and your friends are telling you that I don’t mean it.
They’re wrong. You’re wrong. But nothing I can think of to do right now will make you see that.
So I am going to remove myself from the situation, at least for now.
Maybe in time you will be able to see that my love for you is genuine. You’re the strongest person I know, but even strong people need love. I want to be that love for you, but you have to want it too, enough to ignore the naysayers.

Goodbye, at least for now dearest,

All my love

Peter”

With a deep sigh, Stiles closed the letter and opened up his laptop to check his email. Once he’d cleared out the spam and the marketing emails, there were two of interest. One from his Dad and one from Lydia.

Lydia. She’d been the only one, surprisingly enough, to tell him to give Peter a chance. But she lived and worked in New York and hadn’t been able to come back to reinforce her view in person. The opinions of the very present Scott and co had therefore ended up prevailing.
When Lydia found out the result, she’d immediately flown back, told Stiles he was an idiot and then swept him into her arms and let him cry himself to sleep. Now she emailed him every week, long chatty emails which usually ended with her telling Stiles he should leave Beacon Hills and come to New York. It was only a few days since the most recent one of those though, so this was an unexpected message.

He opened the message from his Dad first. It was just a reminder that Noah and Melissa would be away the next weekend, for a trip to San Francisco. Instead of coming for dinner on Sunday as usual, they wanted Stiles to come on Monday night.

His Dad and Mel were about the only people Stiles saw regularly any more. He was more likely to bump into the others when shopping for groceries than be invited to a get-together of any sort. Stiles understood. He’d been their “Big Bad” for a while there and although they all said they didn’t blame him, he could see how just his presence might be triggering. The evil had worn Stiles’ face. There was no getting away from that.

Stiles clicked on Lydia’s email:

Stiles. There’s a job here that has your name written on it in letters 10 feet high! Details and application attached. DO IT! You can stay with me till you get settled. Come on, Stiles, stop pining. Beacon Hills doesn’t deserve you and you deserve to be happy. Sell the damned house and come to NYC!
I will phone tomorrow to see if you’ve done it and you don’t want me to have to shout!
L

Stiles stared at the screen. Then, reluctantly, he opened the attachment. Damn. The job really was everything he wanted and would make use of all his skills.

He pushed away from the desk and started to pace the room. His eye fell on the calendar on the wall just inside the kitchen, the one that was supposed to be for appointments or events. He’d forgotten to turn it over again. He did so and looked at the blank month revealed. Nothing. There was nothing he needed to do outside of work that needed noting on the calendar. Not even a dental appointment. Certainly nothing fun. He looked at the month: August. Six months since Peter left. Lydia was right, it was time to do something new.

Stiles returned to his desk, sat down and started to complete the application form.

-----------------------------------


FOUR WEEKS LATER......


Stiles gave the room a last once-over. Everything was packed. The few bits of furniture worth taking cross-country, including his treasured desk, were being picked up tomorrow and had all been moved into one corner of the living room, so the movers could pick them up without Stiles being present. His Dad was going to let them in.

The rest, such as it was, was being left and whoever bought the house could have it or, if they didn’t want it, Noah had again promised to see to clearing it all out.
Stiles had opted for the house not to go on sale until he left. He was going to stay with Lydia anyway for a few weeks, but his new job would pay enough to allow for storage and to help her with bills until the house sale went through. Moving first had the advantage of not alerting Scott, and thus avoiding any arguments about why he shouldn’t leave. Although with the amount of contact he had with the pack these days, maybe they wouldn’t care enough to try to make him stay. That might be worse. Either way, Stiles was good with avoiding the whole issue.

No, everything was ready. Stiles moved his three bags of personal stuff together then sat down on the couch, which he wasn’t keeping, to wait for his cab to arrive. He’d been able to get his Dad and Melissa to agree to let him travel alone to the airport, pointing out that they would all be together again quite soon, as they were coming to New York in just over two months to see what a New York Thanksgiving was like. Lydia’s eyeroll at that had been discernible even via email! Stiles was just glad there wouldn’t be a tearful airport scene.

Someone knocked on the door and Stiles frowned. The cab was early.
Rising from the couch, he went to the door and opened it.

“Hello, Stiles” said Peter.

“Wha...Hello!” Stiles managed to speak, but only just. His mind was just saying Peter! Peter! Peter!

“May I come in?” the man in question asked and Stiles managed to back up enough to allow Peter through the door.
They stepped into the living room proper and then both came to a halt.

Stiles spoke first: “How did you get here? I’m about to leave!”

“I know. Lydia told me. That woman, she’s incredible. She somehow tracked me down. Told me you had finally decided to ditch this godforsaken place and that I should get back here and tell you, again, that I love you.
Because I do love you Stiles. I never stopped. I’m sorry I left, but I couldn’t see a way to get round those friends of yours and they were never going to believe me.”

“I believed you,” Stiles blurted out “I did. Only...I didn’t really believe in myself, so I kept telling myself that the feelings I had couldn’t be true. I thought Scott and the others were wiser heads, but they weren’t. I know that now. I am so sorry. I must have hurt you.”

“It did hurt, yes, but I can’t really say I didn’t understand” Peter replied. “I didn’t really have a good track record as far as all of you were concerned. But I would like the chance to show you, to try again.”

“But I’m about to move to New York!” Stiles said. “I can’t change it now. I have a job, the house is going on sale tomorrow!”

Peter grinned. “Then it’s just as well that’s where I live now, isn’t it?”

“Really?!” Stiles grinned back; his face almost felt out of practice at making such an expression.

“Yup. I’ve been there the whole time. I didn’t think anyone knew though, so I still wasn’t expecting a text message from your terrifying friend. I have no idea how she got my number, but I’m very glad she did.”

“She is terrifying, but she always said I’d been stupid to push you away, so I suppose I’m not surprised she’s done something about it.” Stiles replied. “I’m going to live with her, for now.”

“That’s good.” said Peter. “And while you get settled in your new job, we can go on dates. Proper ones, without being under the noses of interfering friends.”

“I’m not so sure about the friends bit these days” Stiles said sadly “I hardly ever see them. Derek & Cora moved away - did you know? And the others, well I think I remind them too much of things they’d rather forget.
But yes, dates would be good!”

“Derek told me they were leaving, but I haven’t heard much since.” Peter said. “I’m sorry the others have let you down.”

There was a short silence. Then Peter spoke again:

“Anyway, come along, let’s be off! In case you hadn’t realised, I’m taking you to the airport and flying with you. I have lots to show you in New York and maybe, after a while, we can start looking for a place together?”

“An apartment? I’d like that” said Stiles.

“Not just an apartment” said Peter, stepping forward and gathering Stiles in for a deep kiss,

“A home.”