It wasn’t uncommon for people to have their soulmarks appear the day they’re born, so no one bats an eye at the little spiral on baby Stiles’ left hip. As the years go by, it goes from a simple design to something more heavily detailed, intricate, until he can make out the phases of the moon and trees and a howling wolf. Stiles thinks it’s beautiful, that his soulmate must be an amazing, wonderful person to leave such a pretty mark on him. None of his friends have marks so detailed.
It wasn’t uncommon for Stiles to wake himself up screaming, after his mother died. He got frequent nightmares, his imagination overactive and vicious. His father thought it was just another nightmare that had him screaming and crying, and being used to this, he maybe didn’t go to Stiles as soon as he should have. Until he heard his son start screaming for him.
He got out of bed and ran to Stiles’ room, eyes wide, looking for any signs of danger. There was none, just Stiles writhing on the bed in agony.
“It burns- I don’t-I don’t know what h-h-happening!” he said, voice high. He pulled up his shirt to see the soulmark on his hip, barely able to see past the tears filling his eyes. It was like tar that had been set on fire, burning away, black leaving silver-white in it’s wake. Like an old scar.
Stiles’ skin was hot to the touch when John touched the mark, angry red like he’d been burned.
“Dad-what-” Stiles clenched his eyes shut as another wave of agony hit him, like fire curling through his blood. It was more than just his soulmark, now. And on the backs of his eyelids, he saw something. A brief image, there and gone in a second, but he knew what-who-it was. “He’s dying,” Stiles sobbed at the same time his dad’s phone started ringing in the other room.
“That’s-that’s for him, it has to be, dad go, go, you have to save him please-please save him.”
“Son, I’m not leaving you-”
Stiles, with newfound strength, pulled himself out of bed and onto shaking legs, dragging his dad with him, pushing him out of the room and back to his own. He looked like a wreck, clothes and hair askew, face red and blotchy, stained with tears, his expression still contorted in pain, breathing hard. He looked like he was on the brink of a panic attack, holding on only through sheer strength of will.
John reluctantly got dressed in his uniform, knowing it had to be more than coincidence that he was called just when it looked like Stiles’ soulmate was dying-or at the very least in danger.
“You call me if you need anything, son,” he said, crushing his skinny, trembling boy to him in a hug.
“Go save him dad,” Stiles said.
It wasn’t until the sheriff was in his cruiser and on the way to the Hale house that he realizes Stiles had been referring to his soulmate as a ‘he’. He stepped on the gas, flooring it as that realization proved to him Stiles was right.
Back at home, Stiles curled up on the couch with a glass of milk and his moms favorite blanket, breathing through the pain emanating from his mark. It still felt like his skin was melting away, but not as bad as it had; he could only hope that meant his soulmate was out of the fire.
He kept his shirt rucked up, watching his fading mark intently. Hardly any of the thin black lines were left, the mark almost completely faded to raised silver scars.
“Please be okay,” he whispered, tracing his mark, hoping his soulmate could feel him the way he’d felt the fire.
The next day Stiles is showing up at the hospital, exhausted after not sleeping a second, to finally meet his soulmate. He knows now that it’s Peter Hale.
Waiting outside the room, blocking him from entering, is Peter’s family. Some of them, anyway. The three Hale siblings that Stiles kind of knows because Cora is in her class are looking shell-shocked, Derek on the brink of a breakdown like he thinks it’s all his fault. And with them is Talia, looking concerned but steadfast. And strangely none of them are injured, even though Stiles could have sworn he heard that they’d been in the house when it went up in flame.
“Ah, you must be Stiles,” Talia said when she noticed Stiles standing a few yard away, shifting unsurely. “I hear we have you to thank for saving my brother’s life.”
“How are you feeling, dear?”
Terrible. Exhausted. Hollowed-out. “Fine. Uh, yeah, fine-is he okay? He’s going to be okay, right?” Talia smiled kindly at him, reaching out and gesturing for Stiles to come closer. Stiles did, letting her take his hand and lead him over to sit down.
“He was badly burned, but I believe he will make a full recovery.”
“Thank God.” Stiles’ shoulders sagged in relief, and he felt like crying again for a whole new reason. His soulmate-Peter-was going to be okay.
“Do you want to see him?”
“He’s sedated right now, but I’m sure he’d love to meet you when he wakes up.”
Stiles barely paused to say thank you before he was up and across the hall, walking into Peter’s room. He was almost afraid to meet him after all these years, but then he brushed that thought aside.
It was dark inside, so Stiles couldn’t really see him. But he knew by the way his mark pulsed with life that Peter really was his soulmate.
Later, the sheriff came to get Stiles after being told by Melissa he was hanging out in Hale’s room. Before he could collect the teen, though, he was stopped by Talia who was just coming out of the room. She smiled, recognizing him.
“Sheriff, it’s good to see you.”
“You too, Alpha Hale. Stiles in there?”
“Yes. He’s sleeping now; hasn’t left Peter’s side since this morning. You’ve got a great kid there.”
“Yeah, I do.” The sheriff sighed, looking at the closed door. “Is your brother okay?”
“Yes, he is. I suspect he woke up for a little while earlier while I was taking the kids home. Stiles was looking much more relaxed when I came back.”
“Last night was hard on him. He looked like I was gonna tell him Peter was dead when I came home; cried for an hour when I said we got there in time.”
“Have you told him about us?”
“No. I didn’t know it was Peter until last night, so I never saw reason to. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already found out, though.”
“Her certainly is a bright boy. I’m sure if he hasn’t realized yet, he will when Peter gets discharged in a month.”
Stiles indeed figured it out, within a few days. it explained so much about his mark. He was ecstatic that his mate was a werewolf, if for no other reason than it meant he would be able to heal from something that no human would be able to survive.
