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English
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Part 85 of 15 Minutes
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Published:
2015-09-27
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2016-04-20
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4,869
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2/2
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Replacement Child

Summary:

The grief had been all consuming, slowly killing his mate and so Peter Hale had searched for the perfect replacement for Allison but what they found wasn’t exactly what he’d thought they wanted, but the little boy with bright brown eyes and soft little hands and messy brown hair was perfect.

Notes:

My friends are once more making me pay for my stupidity, and so here were are with 15min again. Inkwell asked for a story with Peter Hale and Chris Argent both of them being a little bit off in the head (yes, that’s what she said) and they decide to abduct a child who is little Stiles Stilinski. She also asked for Claudia to either be dead or dying when Peter or Chris takes her son from her. That’s it darlings.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

 

The grief was all consuming not to him for Peter wasn’t the sort to be weakened by grief unlike his mate who wasn’t as strong as him even if Chris was a hunter. The grief that had settled with the sudden death of their daughter Allison was slowly draining Chris’ will to liv and Peter feared that his mate would soon follow their daughter to an early grave, Peter could not lose his mate too and so he began the troublesome attempt to bring back their daughter but all that was achieved were these violent twitches and then her body began to decay twice as fast as it would do under normal circumstances, in the end Peter was forced to scout for a replacement child that would be good enough for both him and Christopher which was not an easy task for Allison had been a glorious little girl of whom both her parents had been so dreadfully fond and proud of.  

 

Peter searches and searches until one day he sees a little girl who he thinks would be perfect for him and Chris, he watches her and follows her learns just enough about the girl to convince himself she would be perfect, but to be certain of his choice Peter brings the one person who’s opinion truly matters with him to the playground where the little girl seemed to frequent at fairly often.

 

It’s a warm autumn Saturday when Peter finally manages to get Chris out of bed and the house and all the way to playground where their future daughter, they sit down on one of the cleaner benches near the playground  when Peter is certain the child is there. Peter expects Chris to have the same reaction he’d had when he found the almost perfect child for them but all his mate did was sit there with a completely blank expression on his gaunt face, not even when Peter took it upon himself to direct his husbands attention towards the reason why they were at the playground did anything change in Chris’ behavior and Peter was searching for anything to give him the greenlight to put the wheels in motion to bring her home, Chris gaze however remained empty and detached; Peter decides to give the man he loves the time he needs to see their daughter, and so he takes out his book and begins to read.

 

Suddenly there’s a little voice next to Chris and Peter glances away from his book and watches as Chris looks less gone to the world.

 

`Mistel, can you elp me? ´ a little boy with the widest pair of bright brown eyes asks, and Chris nods which causes the little boy to beam up at him with such joy that you’d though Chris had suddenly told the child that he was going to get everything he could ever want, and Peter honestly couldn’t deny that the child was adorable.   

 

The little boy dressed in a bright red jacket and a little hat that looked like the head of that odd-blue little alien called Stitch, nothing about the garments the boy was wearing matched or even fit properly the hat kept slipping down over his eyes but none of it seemed to bother the little boy, the little boy raises a little juice-box to Chris who takes it knowingly both Peter and Chris had dealt with juice-boxes for years which made it easy for Chris to slip the straw through the little somewhat resistant hole before holding it towards the little mouth.

 

`Take a few sips so that that you don’t end-up with a messy little jacket.´ Peter nearly stops breathing because there it was that softness and tenderness in Chris’ voice, a voice that had ever and only been reserved for their daughter and it was a voice Peter had thought but a moment ago he would never again hear.  There was even a return of that heartwarming softness that had appeared on Chris’ face the very second he’d held their baby girl in his arms, and not only did Chris seem once more happy but his scent was ripe with joy as well as deep rooted affection this was all enough to causes Peter to focus on the child just a little bit more and yes indeed the child was rather adorable but that alone wasn’t enough for Peter.

 

The little boy huffs sounding almost affronted by what Chris had said, `I may be almost this many,´ the little boy holds up four colorful gloved fingers, and now Peter is interested because this boy does look no older than three or four but he seems older somehow, `But I’m not stupid . Mama says I very smart.´

 

`Are you now?´ Peter laughs after Chris softly apologizes to the little boy who immediately leans in to take the straw between his pretty little lips but pauses immediately and gives Peter a sharp look, a defiant glare if  you will and that is just an invitation for Peter to humiliate the child.

 

`Yes.´ the little boy says and he sounds so sure and defiant, `I very smart, I can read and write.´

 

`Really?´ Peter hums and the child nods, and Chris gives Peter that look that tells him to stop but Peter needs to know if the child indeed is as bright as he says he is, Peter opens a page randomly from his book knowing very well the child wouldn’t be able to read it, `Prove it.´

 

Defiantly the boy moves towards the open book.

 

`Pick a line and read it.´ Peter says smirking a little as he waits for the child to fail, he expects it, but his smirk dies down quickly as the boy begins to read with a fairly good Russian a familiar line devoted to the glory of the bond between mates it’s almost poetic even now when the little boy reads it, and when Peter looks over at Chris the hunter looks very much like the proud parent he’d once been and might become again.

 

`That was, ´ Peter isn’t certain what to say because the word good just wasn’t sufficient enough because this child was not only the sweetest little boy he’d ever seen but he was brave, defiant, and above all bright. Peter’s wolf seemed as eager too about this little boy, which seemed to be enough to confirm Peter that this little boy was it because the girl hadn’t caused his wolf to declare that the boy was perfect and theirs.

 

`Such a clever boy.´ Chris said before hugging the child and planting a quick kiss on the top of the child who goes absolutely rigid in his arms before pushing Chris away, and running off leaving his juice behind.  

 

`Peter.´ Chris says voice once more sorrowful and broken, lost. His hand reached out for Peter’s and desperate eyes locked in on Peter’s own and indeed Chris looked like someone had ripped their child from them as the child ran from them, `Peter.´

 

`It’s alright love.´ Peter says while quickly gathering their things and Chris, hurrying towards the parking lot and it’s only once they are inside the car that Chris finally says the words Peter had sensed were coming, `Peter, I want him. I want my son.´

 

~*~

 

It takes time, in Chris’ opinion too much time before Peter can pick-up their son. But there was much to be done before they could bring their son home and much to learn before Peter could pick him up,  their child lived with a Sheriff which made things a little bit more complicated as Peter had to make certain that once he’d picked-up their son no one would come knocking at their door in an attempt to take their son away; and frankly Peter and Chris needed to make sure that their house was prepared for the time it would take for their child to settle down, and they had to make sure they had all the medication their son would need too because just a little mistake could ruin their happy little family.

 

It was but a week from Christmas when Peter made the all-important move the Sheriff wasn’t home and there was a promise of a snowstorm that would help cover their tracks. Peter had made sure that the Stilinski’s neighbors wouldn’t be around for the pick-up, one family had magically won a weeklong trip to Disney World another had to move out because of sever water damage and so on, Peter had been creative with the removal of the neighbors without killing a single one of them; there would hopefully be only one death that night and it was a necessary one in order to make sure it took the Sheriff awhile longer before realizing that Peter had collected his and Chris’ son.

 

Peter slips into the Stilinski house easily enough with Mrs. Stilinski always forgetting to lock the doors and windows of the simple two bedroom house, if only the Sheriff knew how careless his wife was with her own safety as well as Peter and Chris’ son. The fairly comfortable home with its walls covered with books or framed photographs of the sheriff as well as his fairly beautiful wife and the child the two had created for Peter and Chris; the werewolf had admired these captured images during his short visits to the house, visits that had educated him on the needs of his son.

 

The house was dimly lit, the dishwasher was on and yet there were still a few dishes soaking in the sink waiting for the new day and Mrs. Stilinski’s attention. Peter makes his way upstairs to where Peter Hale knew he would find Mrs. Stilinski soaking in her bath as she did every evening before retiring for the night and while she soaked in her precious bath his son slept in the bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Stilinski, Peter had learned that on the nights when the good Sheriff had to work late his son would sleep in the same bed as Mrs. Stilinski; and yes indeed when Peter slipped into the master bedroom which reeked of the married couple that had so kindly created the perfect son for Peter and his mate, Peter finds the little boy curled up on the bed Claudia Stilinski had been wise enough to place pillows and blankets around the boy to make sure that his son didn’t roll off of the bed.

 

Peter checks on the child first as he should, his son was a deep sleeper and so he could without worry reach down and gently run his hand over his little ones back as well as comb his fingers through the soft strands of feather soft brown hair. He can’t wait for this child to be with him and his mate, for him and Chris to have many more moments like this. Peter is so enthralled by his son who snuffles a little in his sleep but does not wake that he doesn’t notice how Mrs. Stilinski had left her bath and entered the bedroom he was unaware of the woman who’d given birth to his and Chris’ son until the moment she gasps.

 

Peter curses himself a little, he’d planned on disposing the woman in the bathroom instead of right there so close to his son, but there’s nothing he can do about that now.

 

`What – what are you doing in my house?´ the woman asked voice a little bit louder than necessary but thankfully his son was a heavy sleeper and so continues sleeping. Mrs. Stilinski was a fairly beautiful woman with pale skin which she’d passed down to Peter’s son much like she’d done with her hair and eyes, frankly Peter was glad to see so very little of the Sheriff in his son because it would be a reminder to both him and Chris that neither one of them had fathered the child.

 

Her eyes widen when she suddenly recalls she and he are not alone in the room, the fear in her brown orbs intensify and she seeks out her son with her gaze before speaking.  

 

`Just – just take what you want, okay.´ she says voice full of fear, `Just – just don’t hurt my baby.´

 

`Oh dear heart, ´ Peter says softly approaching the frightened woman slowly, `I have no intention of harming my son.´

 

Mrs. Stilinski’s eyes widen twice their normal size and she scrambles for words finally resorting to just a short but respectable form of questioning Peter’s meaning as well as the situation.

 

`W-what? ´

 

Peter can’t help the small but none the less predatory grin that appears on his face because although he’s already told her what he’s therefor she does not get it, and he knows if he gave her more time Mrs. Stilinski would understand why he’s standing there in her bedroom right between her and his son. But Peter has no time to waste on this woman before him because Chris has been waiting for their child for months now without biting Peter’s head-off.

 

Without a desire to torture his mate further Peter shifts revealing the beast he is at heart, flashing his crimson eyes at the woman who opens her mouth to scream but he rips her throat out before a sound can leave her. Mrs. Stiles Stilinski is still alive when Peter shifts back to his human form and turns around to retrieve his son, Peter feels the dying woman make a weak attempt at grasping at his leg in an order to stop him but he shakes her off.

 

Peter can’t help the way his heart swells with love as he gazes down at his little boy, if he was perfectly honest he had been somewhat disappointed when their first-born child was a girl but he’d grown to love Allison regardless of her sex. Gently he wraps his son in blankets to keep him warm enough for the trek to the car waiting for them.

 

Mrs. Stilinski is still alive when Peter turns to leave, his son safely tucked in blankets while cradled safely in Peter’s arms, his son continues to sleep peacefully even the woman that had carried him for nine months clawed at Peter’s leg. Peter kicks her off of him before snarling down at her viciously, `Stop that. I’m just here for what’s mine, bitch.´

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Come Home to Me

Notes:

So here we have a small chapter to this fic, this is what happens when I need to do something quick to get my mind off of things. Why I chose this fic to do so with, well I don't know I just picked one. But I can only hope this will at least please the likes of WhiteRabit and Ladyshadowfox who both asked for more.

Chapter Text


The world outside was covered in white and the sun stood high above the treetops, it was a beautiful day Chris thought as he came to a stop near the backdoor of the house he’d come to call home. There was a peacefulness to the world suddenly that Chris hadn’t felt before or perhaps he’d never stopped to appreciate it enough to recognize it. The hunter stood there breathing in the scent of this unfamiliar world he now found himself standing in, the chopped wood seated heavily in the wooden crate that he continued to hold even while the dull ache in his arms increased.

Since his husbands departure one which Chris had pestered him about doing much sooner, Chris had kept himself occupied as best he could which was not an easy task to do since their home even during Chris slump was kept in immaculate condition since both Chris and Peter were of the same mind when it came to keeping house, still Chris had done what he could to keep his mind from wandering to worrisome thoughts that always seemed to carry the same dreadful idea that Peter wouldn’t come back, or that he would but without their son, which was perhaps the reason why Chris continued to pester his better-half with requests for updates on Peter’s travel. Chris would’ve asked about their son too, asked for pictures but there was always a danger there that held Chris back from asking about their son.

They had to be extra cautious Peter had said, after all their little boy hadn’t been living with a man who made his living flipping burgers but a Sheriff, a man of the law had friends and supporters a burger flipping nobody had. Still Chris wished Peter could’ve just returned straight home instead of making detours and changing cars while Chris just waited uselessly.

Honestly Chris wanted to beg Peter to just come home already, he was itching to ask the man for whom he’d killed without thought or regret to stop being so overly cautious. There was also a selfless part of Chris that wanted Peter to cut the journey short since the possibility of their little ones medication taking a wrong turn increased the longer it was allowed to enter the small body of their child, Chris just couldn’t take losing yet another child.

Chris wanted his husband and child home where they would be safe, where there was no risk of either one being captured, Chris wasn’t sure his heart would be able to take it if he saw his mates face on the evening news handcuffed or their son in the arms of this of the man who’d found his wife dead and the child he called his son gone; it would be the deathblow to Chris to see his son in the arms of this man who would never devote as much time and love on Chris’ son as Chris would, it would destroy Chris to see Peter treated like some common criminal.

It wasn’t easy for Chris to feel this useless and alone, unable to contribute made him feel small and weak.

The hunter kept himself busy as best he could during days, chopping wood to last them for days and checking on the fence surrounding their property, he’d cleared the road leading up to the road , he’d happily unpacked the new set of clothes that had arrived for their son and washed and dried them before ironing away any creases before folding them all nicely up before placing them all in their rightful place; Chris couldn’t wait to see his little boy all dressed-up in his fine new clothes, Peter had spared no expenses when it came to Allison’s clothes and clearly the same would continue with their son and Chris didn’t mind it all after all they should spoil their son rotten.

He’d spent hours on hours making sure that the house was as welcoming as possible for both Peter and their little boy, he’d also managed to get all the presents all wrapped-up for Christmas most of which were for the little boy that he really wanted to spoil rotten, especially now that he knew how easily one could lose a child; the thought of Allison still stings his heart fiercely but he thinks she would want him to find happiness again with her baby brother, and so he shakes the grief off and heads inside the house that he and Peter had spent days preparing for the arrival of their beautiful son.

When Peter had told him that he’d found a child for them Chris hadn’t felt anything, he’d just gone along with Peter’s wishes like he’d done since the moment they’d lost Allison, Chris didn’t eat without Peter prompting him to do so, but then their son had appeared asking for his help and suddenly there had been hope and happiness once more to be seen through the dark clouds; Chris had known the moment he’d seen his little boy standing there in clothes that were far too big for his little body and with cheeks flushed that this was his son, and he’d wanted him and Peter always got him what he wanted.

Breathing in slowly and steadying his grip of the rough wooden crate Chris began to make his way back inside the house, he’d been outside long enough for a slight chill settle into his body; it simply wouldn’t do for him to get sick now when their son was soon to come home, Peter would need Chris to be at his best during the somewhat trying adjustment period and Dylan as they’d decided the boy should be called would also need Chris to not lay in bed with a cold.

Walking into the kitchen Chris was reminded that the adjustment period for their son might be a truly trying one since the boy had spent nearly four years in the hands of the Stilinski’s, the child had grown to believe that Claudia and John Stilinski were his parents and would so naturally fight both him and Peter when it came to accepting that it wasn’t the truth, the highchair with the straps was a stark reminder that they had to be extra vigilant when it came to making sure their son didn’t do something foolish like try and run away from them; Chris didn’t like the idea of having to bind their son to the chair or his for the night and naps, but Dylan would be confused and even afraid for a bit and it was up to his daddies to make sure he didn’t do something foolish.

Chris didn’t like the idea of having to strap his son down and hoped Dylan wouldn’t need to be tied down or punished for a lengthy period of time, he didn’t want to hurt or distress his baby boy but at the same time he understood the necessity of it all and being a parent wasn’t always fun after all.

Leaving his boots by the door next to door Chris made his way into the living-room where a fine Christmas tree already stood decorated and ready to greet Dylan, here and there upon the green branches were some of the decorations Allison had made during her short-span of life, she was gone but not forgotten and even though it pained him still to look upon the frozen images of her smiling face Chris could not bare to part with all the framed pictures of his beloved daughter; and although her room would now be that of her little brothers Chris would always love and cherish her even though she’d disobeyed him and ran down the stairs when she knew better, but then again Allison had showed Chris how dangerously frail a human child was and so unlike with her he’d agreed to allow Peter to give their son the bite once he was settled and old for the bite to take, and the bite would take because Peter had promised him it would.

Setting down the crate of wood next to the great stack of firewood he’d brought inside earlier that day Chris glanced over at the old grandfather clock standing in the corner of the room, a slightly frown creasing his brow as he began to realize that Peter was running late and not by minutes but an hour no less from the time Peter had assured him that they’d be home an hour ago with their son. Of course Chris understood that the traffic could always play against them as could the roads themselves, and yet Chris worried. Throwing a log into the dwindling fire Chris had made before leaving the house and focusing on all the work that needed to be done outdoors, he ponders about calling his husband just to make sure everything was alright but then again if Chris was in Peter’s shoes he’d already would’ve already snapped, and so all he can do is wait for Peter to come home or to just send a message or call.

With a heavy sigh Chris turns his back on the fire and the warmth it provides, still Chris pulls away from the warm embrace that has somewhat chased away the chill in his bones and hands.

He starts to remove his jacket as he walks across the living-room floor, the crackling of the fire giving much needed sound to the otherwise silent house, the first day after Peter fetched their son Chris had kept the TV or the kitchen radio on all the time but by day two he no longer could stand seeing or hearing the Sheriff beg for the safe return of what he called his son; of course there was a part of the hunter that pitied the man who failed at keeping stoic when he began to speak about the Chris’ little boy, how could Chris not pity the man when he would weep, `Please. Please bring my son home to. He’s all I’ve got now. Oh God please don’t hurt my son.´

Chris did feel bad for the small town Sheriff that was suddenly famous as the man who found his wife dead and his son missing when returning home from work one morning, but unlike Chris and Peter this tearful man could remarry and have as many little babies as he wanted while there was just one child for Peter and Chris left in this world to have.

While remove his jacket and discarding it next to one of his husbands, Chris wishes that the Sheriff would wise-up and move on soon after all there was no reason for the man to waste his life away chasing a ghost, after all if Chris and Peter could move on after Allison’s death then so could Mr. Stilinski.

`Oh Peter where are you?´ Chris sighs as he leans in towards the old leather jacket of his husband, he breathes in the scent of old leather and Peter, even to his huma411g4ftyn nose the distinctive scent of his husband could never go amiss to his senses; there was something earthy and wild about Peter’s scent, and since the fire there seemed to be an ever linger scent of burned wood to Peter’s scent. Chris presses the old leather against his nose and inhales the familiar scent, this old jacket had been around for the moment Peter set his whole family and pack ablaze, it had been a show of love and devotion like none Chris could’ve ever imagined being worthy of. Chris knew a lot of people would’ve been horrified by such an act but not Chris because he’d known then that Peter would always do whatever it took to ensure their happiness.

Chris had never regretted choosing Peter over his own family, not once, and he never would, after all Peter provided him with everything he needed to be happy while asking so very little from Chris in return.

The gentle knock on the door startles him a little where he stands hands fisting the old jacket up against his face, thinking about the past and present of their life together, but the jacket is quickly forgotten with Chris’ focus shifts to the locked door. The moment the knock was heard Chris’ heart leaped into an unfamiliar beat.

Chris knows there is very little to fear, he knows Peter would never even under torture betray him, and yet he worries a little as he unlocks the door. He fears that outside this door stands men wearing badges and claiming to serve and protect, after all what if Peter and their son had been in a terrible accident? Chris pauses for a second once the last lock had been turned, breathing in slowly and exhaling even slower before opening the door and ready to face either great joy or unimaginable disappointment.

The sight before him brings up a lot of emotions the greatest one pure joy. Seeing his smiling husband standing there with their little boy all wrapped up in a soft looking blanket, set his heart soaring. The sight of his son and husband right there was just a little bit too much for the hunter to take in stride, and so without warning Chris begins to cry tears of tears of joy and reaching out towards the child he’d been yearning for with both his heart and soul.

`Oh my God.´ Chris cries in tearful repeat, and with shaky hands that had never felt as unsteady as they did not go between reaching for the child and gesturing for Peter to hand him over. Chris honestly knew not what to do, or what to say at that moment when he was so overcome with a happiness he’d imagined forever lost with the death of his little girl.

`We’re home.´ Peter says softly before handing the little life into his mates waiting arms, and as soon as Chris feels the weight of the little boy in his arms the waterworks truly start since now it all seems so very real to him. Chris barely reacts to Peter kissing him as he peers down at the beautiful and peacefully sleeping child.

`Oh God, he’s even more perfect than I remembered.´ Chris whispers as he leans down to kiss the soft little cheeks of his little boy.

`I take it you are happy my love.´ Peter laughs softly in his ear before dropping down the backpack Chris had packed for him and their son days ago, Chris can’t even answer his wonderful husband because he’s all chocked-up, `So I think you are happy with my Christmas present this year.´ again Chris can only nod his head because he is happy, he is beyond happy there isn’t even a word to describe how he feels at the moment.

Notes:

And yes my darlings Inkwell and my merry little friends of idiots have pointed out I didn’t do the whole dead or dying thing right, but they’ve forgiven me for my mistake, hopefully so can you my lovely little readers.

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