#hargent fanfiction

[fictionsofasasswolf-blog]

Survivors of the Wild | Teen Wolf

Chapter One; Discovery

Petopher/Hargent [Peter Hale x Christopher Argent]

BE WARNED THERE IS MENTION/IMPLICATION/DESCRIPTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE IN THIS FANFICTION! Also, I don’t own Teen Wolf or it’s characters.

Peter had told himself a long time ago that he would never in a million years tell anyone about the abuse from his father. He’d taken careful measures to hide any and all signs of it when he could; because who would believe him? His father was a prominent member of the Beacon Hills community; with shining star children that everyone adored. Except for Peter, in most cases. He was the black sheep of the Hale pack - with his strange balance between his two halves, his steel blue gaze and his strategic and hunting prowess that made the others who were much older look like greenhorn soldiers. He was the one no one thought of unless he wasn’t around for dinner or family gatherings [although if he was honest, he doubted he’d be missed at the latter anymore, the way his father continually talked down to and about him]. He had kept it a secret even from Chris, the beautiful human - and hunter - he had recently taken up a relationship with, though no one knew. He just couldn’t bring himself to let Chris know how bad his family treated him, although he wouldn’t be surprised if Chris had figured it out between the lack of his speaking about them and almost always meeting at Peter’s special home. But he couldn’t let anyone’s image of his father be ruined; it would mean his own death at the hands of his patriarch alpha. He was resigned to the torment alone. So it was no surprise when his father had pulled him from bed, ripping the teen’s arm from socket in the process, to drag him out of the house. Peter could only grit his teeth and bear the pain as he was taken from his pseudo home and dragged into the empty field where his late night “lessons” with his father took place.

It had lasted for what felt like ages; only a mere hour in reality, and once satisfied with his work, Anthony Hale had left his son lying bloody along the floor of the forest, stomping back to the house and muttering under his breath about weaklings and needing to make sure the true power stayed in line with the good ones. Peter knew well enough by this point what “the good ones” meant; his siblings - especially his older sister Talia. In pain and tasting the copper of his own blood on his lips, he slowly eased his way up into a sitting position, leaning back against the trunk of a nearby tree. He could feel several broken bones healing slowly, feel the blood seeping into a few places along his dark shirt and pajama pants in the process of his movements. He tried to gather his thoughts, even while the pain seeped deeper into his body and he panted from the effort, his muscles screaming to stop, but the young beta knew he couldn’t, his mind going over the night thus far. Everything hurt. It wasn’t fair, and Peter knew it. But…it was his life. One of his siblings had stepped out of line and as the norm, his father had taken him for training. It wasn’t training, not really, but it left the same residual effect. No one in his family questioned it anymore. Peter had long ago learned how to hide any markings left in view so no questions could be asked. Tonight was harsh, and his father had left him bloodied and almost broken in the clearing. Peter laid still, willing an end to the pain that he knew wouldn’t come. His father loved to hit him too much. The beta had become unwanted even more after stepping in and killing an omega that had attempted to kill his father. His eyes no longer burned that golden color everyone appreciated…as if Peter needed anymore weight to the guilt he carried from killing someone. It had given notice to his hunting ability; not shocking. His skills only got noticed when he “stepped out of line”. Laying where he’d been left, the wolf closed his eyes and took slow breaths to calm his body, which would help the healing process speed up a little better. The inner wolf was at a loss, oddly quiet even. Peter relaxed as he felt some of the pain ebb and nodded in his mind. ‘I’ll be fine to move in a few minutes.’ he told himself, letting his body roll so he was on his side rather than his stomach.

The grass was nice and cool despite the scent of blood everywhere. After what he had determined to be a few minutes, where the pain had mostly given way to a soreness all over his body, Peter finally began to will his body to move, dragging himself up and stumbling along the path to the house. He needed a shower, and to bandage what he could, but his vision was blurry and he honestly couldn’t fathom making it to the manor. There was the cabin he’d built, his safe haven, he could always go there. The thought of his cabin sent a rush of panic through him.

Christopher.

He fumbled for his pocket, struggling since it was in the pocket on the opposite side of his body from his good arm, but he finally managed to pull out the watch to check the time. the glass cracked again, and could barely focus beyond the glass to note the time. He always met Chris at five o'clock on weekend mornings, at the little cabin he’d set up in the woods. His watch said it was now just after four-thirty; and the beta felt a jolt of adrenaline go through him. He needed to be there; needed his mate. “Fuck,” he breathed roughly as he realized. He had passed out after all, despite telling himself only a few minutes. When it came to most things, he and Chris, his beloved hunter, were out of sync with so many things (which was part of what Peter loved about the human). But when they fell into a pattern of meeting at the cabin at five on Saturday mornings and not bothering to go anywhere if they didn’t want to, Peter had accepted it. But his father’s antics put a lot in danger; and put his son in a serious battle of heart. Peter had never told anyone about the abuse; no one in the pack would have backed him up if he had spoken about it. And if anyone asked questions, Peter would just get another beating, only he wouldn’t be moving ever again afterwards. He had thought about telling Chris why he never wanted to talk to or really see his family often, but Chris just made him feel so normal that he often forgot when he’d planned to explained it. Now, covered in blood and in so much pain he wanted to cry, the beta was left to either let Chris find out like this, or have the hunter worried sick about him and come looking. He couldn’t go looking the way he did. He was beaten, bruised and he was entirely unable to lie to the human if pressed for answers to the wounds, but he also knew he would scare his hunter so much more if he were to not show up at all.

One option ended in Peter’s death, the other ended with his mate in the line of fire should his father discover the secret was out. Peter looked down the darkened path that led to the Hale manor, then down at a bloodied, swollen hand that was healing but taking time from the alpha’s abuse. After a long moment, tears in his eyes, the beta gripped the rough bark of the tree he was leaning against and shoved off, going off the path and pushing himself into a run. He fought against the pain echoing back to life in his body, forcing himself not to stop until he reached the cabin. He was just coming to the little hole he’d groomed for a yard of sorts when he tripped over an overgrown root and face-planted into the ground. Feeling the pain worsen now that he had stopped, Peter didn’t want to move. He wanted to cry and be weak and forget to exist. Soreness biting him, he curled up as best his body would allow, burying his face towards his knees. He wanted to die, to never feel so broken again. He stayed put, not moving or caring about the rest of the world except Chris, the hunter being the only thought that kept Peter wanting to hang on. A noise nearby had Peter tensing, wondering if someone had gone looking and followed the scent of his blood to his safe place, but the gasp told him no, he was still safe. Resigned to the crossroads his father had unknowingly provided him, he laid still and waited for Chris to show up.He opened blue eyes and made eye contact with a pair of blue hues lighter than his own, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut off as the other teen spoke.

“Peter?!” the voice of the human he loved so much had Peter barely moving to uncurl enough to peek out at the blonde.

“Hey,” Peter croaked, hissing as Chris rushed over, picking him up to hold him to his chest. “E-easy…everything hurts.”

“Peter, what happened?” the blonde questioned, rushing over to grab the wolf’s face. When his boyfriend winced, he frowned. “Who did this?” The young hunter demanded.

“I’m fine, Chris.” Peter tried to lie. “It’ll heal.”

“It should have already healed, Peter.” Chris countered, his pale blue gaze stopping when it registered. “Peter…who did this?” Peter didn’t need to answer this time, because a few moments after his boyfriend’s question, he felt Chris’ entire body go stock still. “Your alpha did this, didn’t he?” he asked. When his wolf stayed silent, looking away, the human felt an anger rise in him. “I’ll kill him.”

“Chris, no.”

“Peter he beat the shit out of you! That’s not okay. I can’t just let him get away with this.” Chris countered.

“Chris-”

“No, he shouldn’t just go around beating his betas, let alone his own kids!”

“Chris, listen to me, this is serious. If anyone finds out, he’ll kill me.” Peter half-whispered, trying to sit up, but the arm he went to move was the one out of socket and he whined loudly, falling back. This stilled the human, and Peter could smell the change in emotions. “He only beats me, no one would believe you if you said anything, but he would know I told someone and kill me.  It’s because I’m so different.” Chris sat beside him as he spoke, watching Peter and looking over the healing wounds on his boyfriend’s face. “I just need you here. I need to know you’re safe. You kill him and I lose you. Then you lose me, and they get what they want.” Finally, his hunter stood after a long moment, carefully helping him up and supporting much of his weight into the cabin to lay him on the large cat like bed. Before Peter could say anything else, Chris was walking over to the cabinet in the corner of the little kitchen just feet away. He opened it up and pulled out a few items that Peter couldn’t quite see before returning. When he began setting out medical supplies, the wolf gave a confused look. “Chris, why did you-”

“It was in case one of us got hurt out in the woods doing…whatever we decided to do at the time.” Chris replied. “Now lay still, I have to reset your shoulder. It won’t be pretty if it finishes healing like that.”

Peter groaned and closed his eyes, nodding as Chris’ hands fell on his chest and shoulder in the right way before there was a quick, sharp pain and then the feeling in his arm returned. A loud gasp escaping him as his eyes flashed, he bit his lip as he moved his hand, happy to have the function back more accurately. “Thank you.” he breathed.

“Don’t thank me yet. I have to clean the rest of these up so they won’t scar when they heal.” Chris replied, moving to dab alcohol on a cotton ball. “Come on, shirt off.” he said, his tone authoritative as he motioned at the other teen.

“You just want me naked.” Peter countered with a soft chuckle, pushing himself with a low hiss into a sitting position.

“Maybe once I finish cleaning you up, I’ll enjoy how good you look naked. Right now, I want you to be okay. Alpha wounds take time, as you know.” Chris replied, easing the shirt off. He took note of the lack of big tears in the fabric, a silent fury in him as he began to swipe the little ball of cotton along some of the gashes. “This is awful, Peter. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not that I wasn’t going to. Being with you makes me feel…”

“Safe?” Chris asked, looking up from a closing wound on Peter’s left side.

“I was going to say normal, but yes, safe fits, too.” Peter told him. “I would forget that I was going to until after you left. I’m sorry you found out like this.”

Chris purses his lips. “Peter, you aren’t being forced to marry someone from a pack. Your fucking dad is beating you. Do not tell me that you’re sorry.”