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Though it was the saddest day of Stiles’ life, it was also the most exciting and fun. She had made a deal with her mother before she died that no matter what, she would celebrate her birthday like it was fucking New Year’s Eve. There would be loud music, presents, and lots of junk food, games, smiles, and her mother’s favorite, laughter. Stiles wasn’t allowed to do anything but, even if it by some sick chance it would be the day her whole life changed.

March second was exactly that.

On her birthday, Stiles’ mother passed on to be with the angels. She was just a kid when that happened, a baby by comparison, but Stiles never forgot that promise. She knew how much it would hurt her if she did – something Stiles would never even dream of. So, from then on, Stiles declared her birthday as Claudia and Stiles Day, a Stilinski-national holiday, a day of nonstop partying and happiness. It was the least she could do for the most important woman to ever, and will ever, step into her life. 

“Stiles! Get up before I eat your breakfast feast!” The sheriff yelled from down in the kitchen. Rolling over, she stretched like a worn out kitten and blinked the sleep from her eyes. A grin spread slowly across her lips, giving her a mischievous and sly appearance. In a way, Stiles was a brown haired, less furry and no tailed version of the Cheshire cat. Her personality was even more distinct than her looks, though.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake!” she called back to her father and slipped out from her covers. She smoothed her batman PJs down and stared at herself in the mirror. Taped on the glass to her right was a picture that Stiles cherished – her mom. It was taken right before she had gotten sick, and was of her and Stiles on a camping trip.

Glancing back and forth between the picture and the mirror, Stiles beamed. She noticed the older she got, the more she looked like her mother: same honey brown hued eyes, same long chocolate hair, same pale, mole speckled skin, same impish smile. It was like she was a carbon copy of Claudia Stilinski, and she wouldn’t trade that for the world.

“Barely legal child, your breakfast is getting cold!” the sheriff yelled to her again. Stiles rolled her eyes. Barely legal was putting it mildly. As of five this morning, a little bit over an hour ago, Stiles was officially eighteen years old.

“Finally,” she muttered and then told her dad to stop being so impatient. With one last smile at her reflection, she left the room and stumbled down the steps in order to get to her breakfast. She didn’t doubt for a moment that the sheriff wouldn’t eat her food. Today was one of the few days he could eat unhealthily and if that meant stealing his daughter’s bacon, he would most likely do it.

When she got into the kitchen, she was greeted by the sight of chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, and lots of orange juice on the table, and her father dressed in his uniform with a pink confetti apron and Mickey Mouse hat.

Traditions at its finest, Stiles thought while she grinned at her dad. She ran over and hugged him tightly. “Morning dad!”

“Ah, the few hugs I get,” the sheriff muttered sarcastically, making Stiles laugh harder. He was definitely catching onto his daughter’s personality and sense of humor. When they pulled back from each other, John Stilinski gave her a rare smile. “Happy eighteenth birthday, kiddo. You’re finally old enough to have a part in corrupting the government, be charged as an adult for a crime, and for me to kick your hyperactive butt out. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Heh, you’re a comedian, dad, really,” she responded with a chuckle. The sheriff rolled his eyes and gestured for her to sit at the table while he disappeared into the living room for a moment. Coming back seconds later, his arms were filled with brightly wrapped squares and one comic inspired gift bag. Stiles bounced in her seat, excited for presents. This was the only time she got more hyper than consuming a bucket of sugar.

“Eat first, then open the presents. Sound good?” her father asked. His answer was Stiles nodding rapidly, nearly giving herself whiplash. If it wasn’t for the fact that he felt older as well, he would never believe his own daughter was an adult now. Not only was she small and slender enough to resemble a child, she was just as giggly as one.

The pair scarfed down the food in minutes, enjoying the savory sweet and salty tastes they each craved, before getting down to the best part. They cleared the table as quickly as they could, not only because of their excitement but because of the limited time the sheriff had before he had to leave for work.

“Go for the bag first,” he murmured when they sat back down at the table with the presents between them. Stiles didn’t waste any time as she reached for the bag, dragging it toward her with an eager expression. Removing the tons of tissue paper that was stuffed in, she peered over the edge and nearly stuck her head in as she kept digging.

She squealed when she reached the bottom. Stacks upon stacks of socks were mixed around. There were ankle socks and there were tall ones; there were colorful and crazy socks; there were toeless and toed. It was an emporium of awesome-socks.

“Epic,” she murmured, pulling out a pair of thigh high harlequin socks. She grinned and set them aside for school later on. “This is awesome, dad!”

The sheriff pushed two boxes her way for her second present. “These go with those socks, Stiles,” he told her. Curious about what it could be, she tore the paper off the larger of the two and squealed again as she saw the logo for Converse. Stiles threw the lid to the side and nearly fainted when she saw the Harley Quinn design.

“Holy mother of God,” she whispered, her fingers brushing over canvas lovingly.

“Now open the other,” John instructed. Stiles was a little bit confused but did as she was told. As she unwound the paper, her father continued to talk. “Now I didn’t buy this for you to wear. I mean you can but you’ll probably get a lot of questionable looks. Just thought it would be funny, especially with you hanging with werewolves and all. I hope you get a kick out of it as much as Melissa and I did.”

Hearing him mention Scott’s mom made her smirk. She expected trouble when the two of them schemed on something. Stiles finished with the paper on the smaller box and pulled the lid off. What she saw nearly had her on the ground laughing her guts out.

Inside the slim box that her father and Mama McCall had given her was a black and red spiked dog collar. Attached to it was a wolf shaped dog tag. The word Stiles was imprinted in the black metal.

“They’re going to love this!” she cackled as she pulled it from the box and put it around her neck. It was a perfect fit. In a quick moment, Stiles wondered what her Alpha would think about this.

“I should have known you would wear it,” the sheriff said, laughing quietly as he leaned back in his seat. Stiles only grinned and made sure it wouldn’t strangle her. She couldn’t not wear it – it was too priceless to be left sitting in a box, questionable looks be damned.

The rest of her presents included a gift card to Game Stop, a collection of Looney Tunes DVDs, and an awesome bow tie that she would have worn if she didn’t have the collar on. Soon though, it was time for the sheriff to head to work and for Stiles to get ready for school.

“Scott’s picking you up, right?” John asked. “You don’t need a ride to school with those cupcakes?”

“Nah, I’ll be alright, Dad. Scott always picks me up on my birthday. It’s another tradition, you know that.”

“And he’s coming over tonight for the party? Are the others? Is Derek?”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah he is and probably. We’re a pack so they’ll probably want to have some fun as well. I don’t know about Derek though… probably not; you know he’s a sour wolf, Dad. Parties aren’t his thing I guess.”

John nodded and chuckled. He knew that as well as his daughter did. Derek Hale didn’t do fun. He wasn’t even sure he had ever seen the Alpha truly smile. “Alright then have fun. Remember, no drugs and I better not catch you with any more alcohol.”

“Yes sir!” she said with a salute. “Hide the alcohol and no drugs, got it.”

Shaking his head and laughing more, the sheriff waved and left when Stiles went upstairs to get dressed. She paired her new socks, shoes, and collar with her trademark red hoodie and black tutu. Though her color scheme was bold and right, it wasn’t unusual for Stiles. She was known to dress in wild, eccentric themes. It was one of her favorite past times.

A half an hour later, Stiles was out on the curb with her bag on her back and two containers of cupcakes in her arms. She decided since they hadn’t been able to go all out for her birthday for the past two years she would make it even more special than before. She had gotten used to baking things for the pack, as well, so it was nothing new. She just hoped they didn’t embarrass her by singing to her in the cafeteria like Scott had freshman year.

She started to worry. In order to get to school with time to spare, Scott should have picked her up nearly ten minutes ago. She texted him at least twice, asking where he was. Stiles never received a response. When time got too close and her nerves turned impatient, she muttered, “screw it,” and threw her stuff into the front seat of the old jeep. While retrieving her keys, she sent a quick message to her dad.


Stiles: Might be a bit late to school so don’t freak if you get a phone call. Scott never showed…must have had car trouble. Talk to you tomorrow morning!


            She climbed into the front seat and started the jeep. Or, at least, she tried to start it. It stuttered and faltered, then stalled completely at least five times.

“Oh for the love of Pete,” she groaned as she kept trying. “Come on, baby, not today,” she whimpered to the car. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the piece of crap finally purred to life and she pulled out the driveway like a bat out of hell. Thankful that the deputies and her father were most likely still in the office trying to get organized for the day, she may or may not have pushed the speed limit to an extreme as she raced to get to school on time.

Job numero uno on her to-do list: murder Scott McCall and then use his blood to give the school walls some color.


By the time she pulled into the lot and was running for the main office, cupcakes jostling in her arms, it was well into first period. She was grateful that the receptionist on duty had a soft spot for poor, ole’ half-orphaned Stiles Stilinski because she only got a meek warning about not being late again. Stiles must have said thank you a million times before she took her past and ran out, only stopping at her locker to put the cupcakes away and grab her books.

When she finally got to her classroom, she slowed her run to a leisure walk and took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. As she twisted the knob and opened the door, the teacher stopped talking and everyone turned to face her. While the teacher, a young substitute, smiled kindly and took Stiles’ note, the students had different reactions. Some just stared at her with bug eyes while others rolled her eyes. A few laughed and sadly that group contained one of the banes of her existence, Jackson Whittemore.

“Looks like you got attacked by your fellow nerds, Stilinski,” he sniggered as she passed his desk to get to hers. She ignored him, biting her tongue when she had the urge to tell him to go back to London, and kept her glare focused on Scott. He was too busy focusing on Allison, who recently decided to give him yet another chance. Allison saw her and her eyes went wide when she took in her glare.

“Scott!” she hissed, making him snap out of his googly-eyed stare an turn around. When he spotted Stiles, he fought against laughing.

“Please tell me you weren’t late because of that outfit,” he muttered as she sat down in front of him. Stiles felt her anger flare and by the change in Scott’s expression, he noticed it too.

“No, dumb ass; I was late because someone didn’t bother to text me back and tell me they weren’t picking me up this morning,” Stiles snapped quietly in return. Scott’s expression went blank as he thought hard.

Did he seriously forget? Stiles wondered. It hurt to even think that her best friend would forget about the day they had been planning for a little over a decade. He couldn’t have… Scott wouldn’t do that to her.

“Shit! Sorry Stiles…” Scott murmured sheepishly. “I was just so scatterbrained this morning, you know, with the full moon last night. I didn’t mean to forget to pick you up. Forgive me?”

“The full moon,” Stiles repeated slowly. Sounded like a good excuse and he only forgot to pick her up. Nothing else. She nodded and shrugged. “Only if our plans are still on.”

Scott nodded eagerly. “Of course, man! Mind if Allison comes, too? I promise you won’t feel left out.”

“Well yeah, Allison has to be there,” Stiles said, smiling affectionately at said girlfriend. She always had a soft spot for her, no matter what happened between her and Scott. Stiles blamed it on her infectious and adorable smile, or even her light-touch hugs. “Isn’t the whole pack coming?”

“They better be,” Lydia supplied from Allison’s other side. The strawberry blonde kept her eyes focused forward as she spoke. “This is too important to miss.”

Stiles couldn’t help but blush. Ever since the third grade, Stiles had looked up to Lydia. She was everything Stiles wanted to be but could never achieve. The gracefulness, the conniving charm, the innocent look… Stiles could never manage something like that with how hyper she got. So, instead of being depressed about how her ADHD kept her from becoming like her idol, she chose to live through her.

To hear that Lydia thought her birthday was too important to miss made her bean.

“Eight o’clock, right?” Allison suggested. Stiles nodded eagerly. She was about to agree before Jackson decided to cut her off.

“What, we’re seriously inviting Stiles?” he snorted, making her smile dim lightly. She knew it was a joke. Why would he suggest not allowing her to come to her own birthday party? Even Jackson wasn’t that cruel.

“Hush up or you won’t be allowed in,” Lydia said, her tone still loving and adoring. Stiles repressed the urge to gag. She could hardly understand why anyone would be interested in the douchebag but then again, he was rich and co-captain of the lacrosse team, despite having disappeared their junior year after murdering so many people. But hey, he’s got those cheekbones, so he apparently deserves the world.

Despite having been a murderous lizard that was hell bent on ruining everyone’s life.

All of her morning classes went similar to this. They picked on her relentlessly but that was nothing new. Stiles was the go-to person if you wanted to pick on someone. Of course, most of the time Stiles was sarcastic enough to insult them right back but today was a little different. It hurt a little bit more. Maybe it was because today was a sensitive day but if Stiles was honest, it was because no one had even mentioned her birthday, not even Scott. There was nothing said.

It got a bit worse at lunch.

She told the others that she would catch up, that she would meet them. They sort of blew her off, wandering in their little clique without even acknowledging her. She wondered if they were doing this on purpose as a birthday prank. It had to be. They wouldn’t hurt her on purpose. At least, she hoped they wouldn’t.

“Maybe the cupcakes will change things,” she murmured as she sat the containers on the floor to close the locker. She picked them back up and wobbled toward the cafeteria as carefully as she could, praying she wouldn’t drop anything. “Yeah, the cupcakes will definitely help. They’ll realize the jokes over and then we’ll have fun.”

She stumbled into the lunchroom and hoisted the treats closer to their designated table. With ten more feet to go, the containers were taken from her arms by Isaac. She sent him a thankful smile. Her five foot frame could barely hold them without her arms shaking.

“Food!” Boyd boomed and immediately dove for them. The others cheered as Isaac spread both boxes out.

“Aw, cupcakes! Thank you Stiles!” Erica squealed as she and the others gathered around. Their happiness made her smile.

Until she finally got to the table.

All of the cupcakes were gone. Everybody had grabbed several, the most taken by Scott, who saved two for Allison, and Jackson, who was just being greedy. Out of the three dozen she had spent yesterday evening baking, there was only crumbs.

Stiles didn’t get a birthday cupcake.

“Why’d you bring in food, Stiles? I mean, not that we don’t appreciate it because your baking skills are amazingly angelic but why?” Cora questioned as Stiles sat down next to her with a slightly sad expression.

“Well, they were for today,” she murmured, unsure why Cora wouldn’t have guessed that. Something must have clicked though because Cora’s smile turned loving.

“That was sweet of you, Stiles! You’re always thinking about the rest of us!”

Isaac sat on the other side of her and squeezed her shoulder with a puppy-quality smile. “You’re right, she always is,” he agreed. “You baked more for tonight, right? I can’t imagine a party without your recipes, Stiles.”

Stiles expression immediately lit up again. “Of course I did! There are two cakes, more cupcakes, cookies, brownies, you name it and I made it.”

“This is why we actually keep you, Stilinski,” Jackson said from the other side of the table. “You’re cooking is too good to be true.”

Stiles felt like that was an insult. “Well, that’s what pack does,” she murmured slowly. Jackson snorted in return, making Stiles frown again, even more than before.

“That would be insinuating that you are part of the pack, Stiles,” Boyd said with a dark chuckle. At first Stiles thought he was joking, that he and Jackson were pulling her leg and trying to pull a fast one, but in minutes, when their expressions didn’t change, she knew they weren’t.

It wasn’t the first time they had told her she wasn’t a part of the pack. In fact, Jackson made it his job to repeat that fact daily, as if Stiles could forget, but she always thought it was just a joke. Boyd would be the same way, rejecting her with a smile. Sometimes Cora and Erica would join in. Even Lydia, who wasn’t even a werewolf, had told her that she didn’t belong.

“I’m a banshee, therefore a part of the supernatural,” she had said when Stiles pointed that out to her. When she asked about Allison because she was human, Lydia had so kindly pointed out that not only was she a trained hunter but she was also mated to a wolf. That was her tie to the pack.

Mates overrule best friends, Stiles guessed.

“Guys,” Scott warned but it was halfhearted. There wasn’t any warning or threats behind the meek phrase. He was amused by this.

“What? It’s true if you think about it. We only keep her because she can be useful at times and because Scott’s too attached to her. Why else would we put up with her hyperactive self?” Jackson questioned as he polished off his last cupcake. A few of them giggled at his words and Stiles had enough. She couldn’t figure out why they were doing this, why today. It had to be a prank – they were never this cruel.

She yanked herself away from Isaac’s arm, grabbed the containers, and left without another word. Stiles heard some of them laughing, and Isaac and Cora’s questions but that was it. She half expected Scott to call out to her, to ask her to wait for him like he used to when Stiles abandoned the group, but there was nothing.

She wouldn’t even be shocked if he was one of the few who were laughing at her.

As she bust through the doors, she nearly smacked into Allison. Giggling quietly, Allison grabbed her arms and stabled her. “Whoa there sweets, where’s the fire?”

Stiles refused to look directly at her, fearing that the tears stinging her eyes would let go and make her look weak. When she didn’t answer, Allison frowned and forced the small girl’s head up by gently jerking her chin in her direction. Her frown turned curious and sad. “Stiles? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I got to go,” she muttered in return, tugging herself away from Allison and quickly leaving the corridor. Allison watched her leave with a pout before looking into the cafeteria. She didn’t quite understand what could have happened to upset her friend that bad, especially since everything seemed perfectly fine.

She would definitely confront Scott when they alone.


After dropping the containers off at her jeep, Stiles found herself in the bathroom, using a wet paper towel to fix her smudged makeup. She was upset and confused beyond reasonable limits. Despite the regular teasing early this morning and the talk about her party, Stiles viewed their talk at lunch as just plain cruel. She had been used to being told she wasn’t like them; there might have even been a part of her that agreed, no matter how much she was desperate to be part of the pack. But today? That was worse.

She thought about Jackson’s words. In a short and bitter summary, he had basically told her that they only use her. She was their cook. She was their ‘detective’ when it came to research. She was Scott’s pitiful friend that they only put up with for so long.

Stiles knew she was a handful at times. She wouldn’t think twice about admitting that she was a pain to deal with, being intense and energetic to the extreme.  Others handled her alright, though. Scott had dealt with her for over a decade and rarely ever complained. Her father had commented on her control but loved her all the same. A lot of people adored her and her vitality.

Then there was the fact that she had saved their asses more than she could count with both hands. Even Derek and Peter had admitted as much in the few rare times they defended her to Jackson. Her research, mental stamina, and determinedness had gotten them where they were today.

She figured out what had happen to Scott within days of him being bitten. She figured out how to stop the Kamina. Stiles had figured out where Boyd, Erica, and Cora were being kept during the same time she figured out what the Darach was doing, who she was, and how Derek could kill it. She came up with a way to destroy the Alpha pack. She had singlehandedly rescued Isaac Lahey from three hags using Mrs. McCall’s bat. 

All in between that, Stiles dealt with the same social drama, a crush on someone completely unattainable to her, and still managed to make it into her senior year without getting grades less than a B.

So…how exactly was Stiles that bad to be with? Why wasn’t she worthy of being in the pack like the rest of them?

She thought about the party. They hadn’t forgotten her birthday. The talk about the party proved it. Still though, no one had brought it up. There was no usual banter from her best friend, especially when the cupcakes were brought out.

“I didn’t even get one of my own cupcakes,” she muttered as she splashed some cold water on her face. She didn’t care about that though. It was just the thought that they didn’t even consider that she should get one for her birthday. She baked them, goddammit. She deserved one more than the rest of them did.

Maybe they just didn’t care, she thought sullenly. Maybe her birthday was just an excuse for them to party. If that was the case, it would explain why none of them were even mentioning it or bothering to watch the fragile human’s feelings.

“God,” she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. That hurt more than she wanted to admit. Stiles, the one who never let anything get to her, the girl who used sarcasm to remember that words meant nothing, was hurt. Hurt was an understatement. She was devastated

It was such a shock to feel the pain that she wondered if it was that time of the month. No, she didn’t mean the full moon; just the time when a female went haywire, especially in the emotions department. It wasn’t that though. It was something completely different.

Abandonment. Loneliness. Rejection. Desolated

She wasn’t pack. Stiles finally believed it.

She went home.


Parking in the driveway, she sent a text to her dad, telling him she had to leave because of a stomach ache. Stiles didn’t doubt that the sheriff wouldn’t buy her excuse, especially if he took into consideration how many cupcakes she left the house with and past years’ accounts of Scott pampering her with sweets. It was logical and believable.

It just wasn’t true.

As she went into the house, she dropped her bag next to the door and went straight for the couch. She just wanted to curl up and ignore the world around her. All she wanted was to sleep.

She did just that.


Allison frowned for the hundredth time that day when she found that Stiles’ usual parking spot was missing the light blue jeep. She wasn’t in art class after lunch, and the others had said she never showed to the other classes.

“Nothing?” Scott asked when he joined his girlfriend’s side out front. Allison shook her head.

“I guess she went home,” she answered before turning to face Scott. “What happened at lunch, Scott? I ran into Stiles as she was leaving… I swear I have never seen her look so unhappy. What did that to her?”

Scott shrugged. “Jackson and Boyd were being assholes again. It was the same shit they normally mess with her about but this time she didn’t insult them back. She just sat there and took it,” he explained, pausing for a slight second. “Maybe she wasn’t feeling so good and it got to her. I just hope she makes it to the party tonight. She needs some time to let go a bit.”

Allison nodded but she was a little bit distracted. Stiles didn’t look sick to her. She looked broken, almost torn apart. Her expression had scared her a little bit, reminding her of the time Derek saw Cora starting to die. It was a hopeless gaze, sort of dead and pathetic.

“Are you sure it was just that? Nothing else happened to her?”

“Not that I know of,” Scott answered. “Come on though, we should get going. We need to get ready for tonight or else the power couple will murder us during pack nights.”

During the whole ride to Scott’s house, him getting ready, and then the ride to her home, Allison was barely paying attention to her boyfriend. She was too busy texting Stiles. By the time she was finished picking out her party outfit, she had lost count to how many she had sent but a lot of them had been repeats.


Allison: What happened today? You disappeared.

Allison: Stiles, why were you upset? Did something happen?

Allison: Stiles, for god’s sake, answer your phone.

Allison: Maybe you are asleep. WAKE UP.

Allison: Fine. Just please make sure you’re at the party. I want to hang out with you.

Allison: It won’t be the same without you.

Allison: Please Stiles. It’s getting close. You said you were coming no backing out now.

Allison: Remember, Lydia said no presents. Jackson has a big enough ego as it is.

Allison: Party starts in forty. Wake up and get ready.

Allison: Eh well, fine. Don’t answer me. Just make sure you are on time. Eight sharp!

Allison: See you soon, buddy. Get ready for a fun time tonight, girly ;)


“You know,” Allison trailed off when she got into the car with Scott to head to Lydia’s house. “It’s a bit late to have a coming-home party for Jackson, right? He’s been here for three months now.”

Chapter Text

A ringing bell startled Stiles from her nap. She flew up, her bright eyes wide with shock and confusion. She fumbled around until her hand touched the vibrating alarm clock on the coffee table next to her couch.  As quickly as she could, she shut the piece of junk off then reached in back of her to turn on the lamp. When the light illuminated the living room, she became even more confused.

All of her decorations were up. Balloons with the number eighteen and funny phrases littered the ceiling, along with neon streamers. The coffee table was covered with the food she had bought and cooked. Pillows covered the floor, along with the blankets she kept for the others. Her stereo system with the IPod hookup from her room was on the window sill. The wood from the fireplace was replaced with a cooler filled with ice, soda, and even a few cans of beer.

Well, that certainly wasn’t from her father.

“What the hell?” she questioned and got off the couch to head into the kitchen, batting balloons out of the way to get through. The kitchen was plagued with more food. There wasn’t a single place on the table of counter tops for anything else. Turning around, Stiles looked at the table and was greeted with a bag and a short letter. “What’s this?”

Pulling the piece of paper away from the bag, she skimmed over it, smiling softly when she recognized the handwriting as one of the helping boys from her dad’s office, Tom. With all of the time Stiles had devoted to helping her father with cases, she had gotten to know him especially, even considered him a friend.


Hey Stiles!

Your dad sent me over to surprise you by decorating the house. How he knew you were asleep, I don’t know, but it worked. Hope I pleased you with my party-beautifying attempts!

Your dad said he forgot to give you the bag this morning but he recommends you wait until after your party to open it. It’s personal and should be for your eyes only, so hide it from those other freaky teenagers.

Lastly, you looked sort of sad when I came in. Judging from all those ignored texts and calls on your phone, I assume its friendship issues. If not, sorry but if it is, ignore them tonight. Have your party, let it slide, keep your chin up, and get wasted. You deserve it, hon!


PS – if you let slip to your dad that I slipped some beers into the cooler, you’ll regret it. Love you and happy birthday, babe!


Smiling slightly, she couldn’t help but shake her head. Not only did Tommy know her too well, she owed him big time for the beer. Only he would take that chance for her.

The statement about her phone caught her attention. She crumbled up the paper and threw it away before grabbing the mysterious present and heading back into the living room to find her phone. When Stiles finally got her hands on it, she flicked through to see. There were tons of missed calls from Allison, Scott, and Cora but no messages. Most of her text messages were from Allison with the exception for one from Isaac, which basically said to party up and smile.

Because the rest of the messages, all thirty-some of them, were from Allison, Stiles only opened the most recent. There was no point on the rest since they were sent hours ago.

“See you soon, buddy. Get ready for a fun time tonight, girly,” Stiles read out loud. She smiled softly. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was ten of eight. They would be here soon. They were still coming.

Maybe she was still pack.

Stiles asked herself if she overreacted. Maybe she had but Jackson’s words, along with the others and their lack of defense, had cut deep into her. They still ached but she made the pain disappear for a bit. She was going to take Tommy’s advice and ignore it until tomorrow. 

This was her party and dammit, no one was going to ruin it for her.

She was so ready.


The music in Lydia’s house just about made the walls shake. All of the werewolves were there, as well as the whole senior class, by the time Allison and Scott got there. It was alive and just getting started; Allison noted when she saw Lydia passing out mixed drinks. Immediately she and Scott wandered over and was handed red and blue drinks.

“Hey guys!” the strawberry blonde cheered. Allison smiled in return, as did Scott.

“Hey! This never shocks me, Martin; it’s only five after eight yet it seems like the party’s been going on for hours,” Scott said loudly over the music with Allison nodding in agreement. Lydia shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. She knew her party skills were good.

“Is Stiles here yet?” Allison asked. Lydia thought for a second then shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so. Jackson would be messing with her again if she was. She said she was still coming right? She was excited in class when we talked about it!”

Allison lost her smile immediately. Stiles was never late for anything. If anything, she was always early, especially when it was something like this.

“She’s probably just having trouble with the jeep, cutie,” Scott said to Allison when he saw her expression change. “The engine has been giving her trouble for about a month now. Derek said he would look at it but he hasn’t gotten a chance yet.”

Allison accepted that as a good excuse. She knew the jeep was getting too old and that it needed a replacement as soon as possible but Stiles was too attached to it. She and her mom had picked it out as a kid so there was no way the foxy teenager was parting with it.

Her acceptance didn’t last long. She was starting to get really worried when the time was speeding faster and faster. She texted Stiles to ask where she was, as did Scott and Isaac when he caught up with them.

For some reason, she felt like something was terribly wrong. No one got a response from their friend and it was starting to really mess with her nerves. When she had mentioned it to the others, they just shrugged. “It’s Stiles, Allison. The chick is weird, you know that. She runs on her own schedule sometimes.”

“But maybe we should check on her, make sure she was alright. I mean, she did leave earlier. Maybe she got sick,” Allison argued but the others ignored her suggestion.

“She’s fine, Allison. Maybe she wasn’t in the mood to party yet. I’ll call her in a bit and see if she picks up.”


Stiles just waited. That’s all she could do – wait. When it was a quarter of nine, she started to worry and went to call Scott or Allison but her phone beeped. It was from Allison, asking where she was. Baffled, she was about to answer when her phone beeped again, alerting her of two new messages.


Isaac: You’re missing the party, chica! Where’s my Stiles at?!?!

Scott: Dude, you’re like missing Jackson’s home-coming party! Where the hell are you? Allison’s worried sick about you since you haven’t answered any of her messages.


She stared at the screen, unseeing and frozen. Jackson’s home-coming party…? That’s what they were talking about this morning, the party everyone was excited for? It wasn’t her party they were waiting for?

Stiles was wrong. It wasn’t that they didn’t care at all. They really had forgotten, all of them. Scott had forgotten about the party they had been planning for months. Scott forgot her birthday. Scott forgot their tradition.

He forgot her mother’s death anniversary.

The burst of anger came out of nowhere as she flung her phone across the room. The sobs started as she watched the piece of technology shatter against the alabaster wall, the broken pieces of glass and plastic falling to the floor as she fell to her knees.

The crying was loud and pathetic as the hurt consumed her again. It was a thousand times worse than what she had felt earlier. Among the previous feelings, betrayal and misery clouded her mind. The longer her crying went on, the more her emotions intensified.

When she finally calmed down a little bit, Stiles tried to regulate her breathing. Thinking maybe she had a panic attack, she grabbed a beer from the cooler and downed a few gulps, hoping to get a buzz. At least then the pain would relax a little bit.

She propped herself up against the couch on the floor and stared at the unused party scene around her. All of it was useless now. They weren’t coming and her party was definitely not happening. She wondered if they had planned this but that little voice in her mind knew they had just forgotten about what today was. They didn’t care enough to remember.

The bag her father wanted to give to her caught her eye as she finished the can of beer. Wanting a distraction, she pulled it to her side and pulled the tissue paper out. On top was a yellowed envelope. It looked sort of worn and old but she knew why the minute she recognized the penmanship on the front. She tore it apart, wanting to get to the contents as quickly as her slippery fingers would allow.

Despite the light buzz that messed with her focus, Stiles read through the letter. When she finished, she read through it again. She even went for a third time. That’s went the tears started again. By digesting everything the letter told her about her life and the gift inside the bag, she felt everything inside her fall apart. Had she not already been devastated, this would have been the best gift Stiles could have received. Now though, all it did was remind that Stiles lacked pretty much everything the letter spoke about, excluding her father.

A family.

“Alright,” she whispered as she stood up carefully. She pushed the bag aside for later and laid the letter on the table. Her plan was already forming in her mind and she knew exactly what was going to happen. She would just need some help. “I won’t let them hurt me anymore. I’ll leave them be and make my own family someday. I’ll do what you did.”

Grabbing her keys, the last thing that she thought before crossing the threshold was whether it was a good idea to drive after that beer. She decided she would be fine. What more damage could she cause, anyway?

She was hurting.


Lydia closed the party down at approximately one-thirty. It wasn’t because of her mom coming home or that she ran out of alcohol. It was because the wolves were all getting some sort of pain in her chest that matched hers and Allison was about ready to murder someone. They thought about checking on Derek, just to see if he was alright or if he felt the same uneasy contraction but Allison shut the idea down as fast as it came up.

“It’s not Derek. It’s Stiles. Something’s wrong with Stiles,” she muttered repeatedly. Scott barely could keep her still because of her pacing.

“I think Allison’s right,” Cora whispered as she leaned against the wall, her eyes shut tightly and fists clenched. “Everything in me is telling me to go find Stiles. My instincts are telling me to go to her house. Does anything else feel like that?”

Isaac nodded. “I feel it. It’s a weird feeling… like I know she isn’t hurt or in danger but she’s hurting. I… I feel like she’s pulling away from me.”

The wolves nodded at both their observations and decided that they would go straight over to her house. They piled into two cars and hurried as quickly as they could without breaking the law. Boyd might have pushed the limit a bit though because Scott had a hard time staying under the speed limit and keeping up with him at the same time.

When they arrived at the house and saw all the lights on, they hurried out of the cars. Isaac and Erica were the closest to the house, therefore the first ones to hit the invisible barrier that stopped them from getting close to the house. They were bewildered and tried again, only to stumble backward.

“What the hell?” Isaac asked. His words explained Erica’s confusion just as well as her face did.

"What’s wrong?” Lydia asked as she and the others caught up behind them. All of them were stopped by the invisible wall, except for Allison, who crossed without a problem. All of the wolves and the banshee were befuddled.

Allison bent down and held her phone out, using the light to reveal the thick line of mountain ash. She didn’t dare touch it, knowing that if it was for safety, she could mess everything up. She took back up and stood next to Scott.

“Mountain ash?” he murmured as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flushed against his side. “Why is her house surrounded? What is going on?”

Instead of answering his questions, the others started to shout Stiles’ name. It took a few minutes but the door finally opened and Stiles stood there, casually leaning against the frame with a can in her hand. Her face was red and puffy, illuminated from the porch light she had turned on. Just by one glance they all knew she had been crying but they were relieved that she was alright.

“Stiles? Why is the house surrounded with mountain ash? Did something happen?” Allison asked hesitantly. Stiles nodded slowly.

“Yep. And it’s to keep a banshee and eight werewolves away from me,” she answered, her tone flat and lifeless. Gasps were heard and flinches were seen.

“Why?” Allison questioned, moving away from Scott. The pain she felt in her chest spasmed for a second after hearing her explanation.

“Because I don’t want them near me,” she repeated, as if the answer was obvious. Allison could hear the pain start to creep into her voice and moved forward more to cross the border but stopped when Stiles held her hand up. “Just because it won’t keep you out Allison, doesn’t mean that I want you here, too. Don’t even think about moving. If you do, I’ll shoot one of the Betas to prove my point. Might not kill them but it will hurt.”

“Stiles! You wouldn’t hurt us!” Scott said, appalled by his best friend’s words. Stiles rolled her eyes and twisted back in the door. She fumbled for a moment before turning back around, the sheriff’s shot gun in her left hand and bullet in her right. She loaded the gun and then aimed right at Scott, her form perfect from recent gun sessions with her father. Immediately, Allison backed off, horrified.

“I would be more than happy to show you if you don’t believe me, McCall.”

All of them stared, astounded by the human’s behavior. They didn’t know what to make of it, until Isaac had a guess. “You’re drunk, Stiles. I smell the alcohol.”

Stiles laughed humorlessly. “Ha, I wish. At least then I wouldn’t feel all of this. At least if I was drunk, I would have a chance at passing out and forgetting about all of this shit. If I was drunk, I wouldn’t be in pain. But no, Isaac, just tipsy; there’s a difference between being drunk and tipsy. Being tipsy means you’re aware of all your fucking problems.”

“What problems? Why are you in pain?” Erica asked gently. She moved a tiny bit forward to stand next to Isaac and Allison. “What happened?”

Stiles gave them a look that asked, are you serious? She narrowed her eyes. “Several things actually: some have been building up for a while and I only just got it today. Another turned my whole day into shit because of a forgotten promise from my supposed best friend over there. Lastly, I got the shock of my life after I got your messages. It kind of made me want to use the shot gun on myself but then I remembered my father would be the one to find me. I think I’ve caused enough hassle in his life so I thought I better not make it worse with funeral costs. But, anyways, take your pick, pups.”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked. The desperation was thick in his voice. He felt sick when Stiles told them about her suicidal thoughts, and it got even worse thinking he had done something to warrant that. Stiles had mentioned a forgotten promise but as he wracked his brain for suggestions, he couldn’t think of any that he had made to his best friend. At the moment, he was clueless as the others.

“I guess we start with that then,” she muttered mostly to herself. She stepped back in the house before grabbing something. She returned with whatever it was behind her back and bounded down the porch steps. She stopped at the bottom and held out a balloon. Lydia and Allison couldn’t see but all of the wolves saw the number eighteen in bright red letters.

“Son of a bitch,” Scott whispered, swallowing harshly. “Today… that was today?”

“Yeah Scott, it was. March second… you know the date right? We just about planned it out for months, years even. I believe we were planning on making the party the best ever; the most childish and fun eighteenth birthday party there was, just to make her proud. Ring any bells?”

“Oh my god,” Lydia whimpered, hanging her head in her hands. The rest of them didn’t know what to say. Though Allison didn’t know Stiles birthday was today, simply because she never celebrated it before and didn’t remember Scott telling her, the rest of them seemed to know.

“Yep; I thought the cupcakes I brought in would have been a clue but you thought they were just treats because I apparently always think about you guys first,” Stiles hissed and then muttered, “I didn’t even get to try my own birthday cupcakes. You ate them all.”

“Stiles,” Scott started to say but she cut him off with a hiccup combined with a sob.

“Which leads me to the next part of why I never want to see any of you fuckers again – I’m done being used. I’m done being taken advantage of because I’m just a fucking little human that’s worth nothing to you. I’m sick of being told I am nothing to the pack, that I was never a part of it to begin with, despite everything I’ve done for you guys,” she explained and paused, wiping the tears that were streaming down her face with her sleeve. Her pale skin was stained with black streaks from her makeup, making her look more miserable then she already was.

"I’ve done all your research and gotten your answers. I’ve tried my best to hold the pack together and take care of you. I’ve saved your pathetic asses more than you would probably like to admit. And what do I get in return for all of it? Rejection; I’m just available when you need me to be and I’m tired of it. If I can’t be an equal, I rather not involve myself at all because it puts me in danger, nearly kills me, or breaks my heart over and over again. In fact, I’m surprised I haven’t cracked before but that’s probably because I’m insane.”

Allison couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She didn’t know she felt like that. Hell, she didn’t even know the others were telling her all of that shit. No matter what happened, she always thought Stiles was part of the pack. She knew Derek and Peter, especially Peter, did too. Did they know what was going on or were they as oblivious to Stiles’ mistreatment as much as she was?

“Stiles I never said you weren’t part of our pack!” Scott exclaimed, earning a whimper of agreement from Isaac as well. Instead of getting the acknowledgement they both wanted, they got a sob from Stiles instead.

“But you never spoke up for me either!” she cried out. “You never stood up for me, never defended me! Today you sat there and laughed. Both of you! You sat there and let Jackson, and Boyd, and Lydia, and Erica, and Cora laugh and make me feel like shit, specifically on a day like today when I’m already trying my best not to break down. That’s even worse than what they did because it came from you two.

“In fact, I think the only one who sort of made me feel like family was Allison,” she added in a whisper. The defeat she shed off her skin crushed Allison’s heart. She wanted to run and hug her friend but knew that wasn’t the best move. Stiles was definitely not above shooting one of the wolves.

Stiles chuckled pathetically as she hung her head. She pulled an envelope from her sweatshirt pocket and pulled a letter out of it. “You know, I used to think of you guys as my family. When you were turned Scott, I felt like my dad and I were part of a big, happy, dysfunctional clan. It reminded me when she was alive because despite all the dark times, I still managed to smile,” she said, a small, soft smile gathering on her lips at a lost memory.

“She remembered you know. She’s not even alive, Scott, and she remembered. She had everything planned out. Maybe she knew you would forget or that the pack would screw me over.”

Scott whimpered and moved as close to her as he could with the border. “Stiles, I’m sorry. I never meant to forget today. I didn’t mean to forget her.”

Stiles continued like she didn’t even hear him. “Do you know what the date on the letter says, McCall? March second; do you know that the time says? Twelve thirty-four. Does that sound familiar at all?” When he didn’t answer, she went on. “My mom wrote this letter an hour before she died. It’s down to the exact minute. She knew that was the last birthday she would spend with me. That’s why she made me make that promise about making my birthday the biggest celebration. All because it was the day she would leave me; she knew this would be one of the most depressing days of my life.”

The Betas whimpered and cried at the information of Claudia Stilinski and her last act for her daughter. All of them were ashamed, overwhelmed, and in physical pain knowing what they had done to their pack member. For a quick second, Allison wondered if Derek and Peter could feel their pain as well.

“So, while my own family decided that one simple day and my self-esteem wasn’t worth their time, my mother spent her last hour making sure I would feel some sort of love. She was in pain that entire hour. The doctor said the cancer wouldn’t give her a peaceful death so I have a pretty good idea of how much strength it took for her to do this. Hell, she even remembered to give me a present. My dead mother remembered my birthday and that I actually mean something as a person while the living kind of forgot, I guess. It sounded pathetic in my head but now it just sounds morbid.”

No one spoke still. There was nothing they could say. There wasn’t any excuses, any reasons for their actions. They had damaged their pack member and now they were paying for it.

Stiles turned and went back up the steps. Whimpers filled the air as she went through the threshold and disappeared. Lydia and Isaac whined her name, trying to call her back, while Cora and Erica merely cried. Jackson and Boyd were in shock because a lot of the damage had been their fault. Scott was devastated that he could do that to his best friend, his sister and Allison…well Allison was trying not to breakdown in the grass.

She came back carrying a tub of stuff and sat it down at the top of the steps. Stiles then removed a collar from around her neck and held it out for them to see. They recognized it from the one she had on in school.

“My dad gave me this morning; said it made me an official member of Derek’s pack. It was a joke to him but it made my day because it meant something to me. All of the wolves are proud of their instincts to be in the pack. Lydia is mated to Jackson and Allison is Scott’s mate so they were automatically in, too. I didn’t have anything to tie me, other than being a friend and helper so this kind of made me feel special. It showed who I belonged to,” she murmured. “Now I feel like an idiot for even thinking such a thing so I don’t want it anymore. If you find someone else, you can give it to them.”

Stiles tossed the collar out and Allison dove to catch it, weeping for the loss. Once she saw whose hands it was in, she started to throw everything in the bin at them. Every object had some meaning to a pack member and a story as to why Stiles had it.

Erica had given her old teddy bear to Stiles for comfort when she slept because the Alpha pack was threatening her life. Isaac gave Stiles his favorite sweatshirt to her after she had saved him because they had grown close and hated to be apart. Jackson gave Stiles a key to his house in case she needed somewhere to crash, despite his harsh and vile demeanor toward her. Boyd gave her his football, the one from his championships because he knew she would keep it safe. Cora had given Stiles a charm bracelet that had belonged to her mother. Lydia let Stiles have one of her favorite flavored glosses. Allison had given Stiles a framed photo of the two of them during a pack camping trip.

Scott had several things thrown at him. There was a bag of clothes that he had left in her room. There was his old ‘lucky’ sneakers and lacrosse stick. A shark tooth necklace and t-shirt he had given her for Christmas a while ago. Basically anything that even remotely smelled like Scott was dumped on the ground at his feet.

The last item that Stiles had to give them was in a protective black padded box. She carried it down the steps and handed it to Allison since she didn’t trust the others. Allison whimpered when their skin touched but as soon as it started, Stiles stepped away from her, afraid that she might fall back into her old habits. “You can tell your Alpha that everything is on there. I translated all of the Latin and Spanish documents into English for him to read. Everything I’ve researched in on the hard-drive but there are CD and flash drive backups so I’m pretty sure he’ll have everything. If there’s any damage or something isn’t working right, Peter should be able to fix it.

“I believe that’s it then. If I find anything else, I’ll find a way to give it back,” she murmured as she stood in front of the group. Her tears were streaming again as she forced herself to finish what she had started. “Like I said, I’m done being treated like this. I didn’t sign up to be the pack’s bitch. That’s just not my style, really. So I’ll go on my way and you can live in peace without having to deal with me. It’s a win/win situation if you think about it. I might get to live to be thirty and the rest of you won’t have to be stuck with a spasmodic idiot.

“I would appreciate it if you guys left me alone in and out of school. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to make you back off. Also, I would suggest not staying out here. I would hate to be you guys if my dad comes home and you’re all still here. He’ll want an explanation and I’m sure none of you want to be the one to explain why I despise all of you. So with that being said – fuck you and have a nice life, mongrels.”

Next thing they know, Stiles is disappearing up the steps and into the house, the door slamming behind her and the lights are out.

She was gone.

Chapter Text

“Stiles!” Isaac yelled. He was the first to break the silence of the group. “Stiles please don’t do this! Don’t leave the pack!”

“Shut up, Isaac,” Erica hissed, slapping her hand over his mouth to stop his screams. “Someone will hear you and then we’ll definitely have her father on our asses.”

Isaac wrestled her off his back and pushed her away. His eyes glowed gold, his fangs extended and bared as a threat. “I don’t give a damn,” he growled at his pack mate. “We fucked up and I am not letting her do this. She can’t leave the pack, she just can’t. We need her too much.”

Allison whimpered when she heard this. “That’s one of the reasons why she hates us now, Isaac,” she muttered. “We always say we need her. While that could be taken as a compliment, the way we’ve treated her makes it an insult. We’ve never told her we wanted her for her, as Stiles.”

“And whose fault is that?” Scott hissed, his red eyes on Jackson and Boyd. “Whose fault is it that Stiles feels like that? Who made her feel like we never wanted her in the first place?”

Isaac growled at Scott, completely forgetting that he was dealing with an Alpha now. “I’m calling bullshit, McCall. You’re just as guilty as I am in this. She was telling the truth: neither of us stood up for her when they said all of that to her. Don’t you dare blame just them when mostly all of us are responsible?”

The pack started to squabble, leaving Allison crying her eyes out and Lydia confused. She finally had enough with all of the yelling and arguing. “Shut up! All of you! This is solving nothing,” she hissed. Somehow, they all managed to go silent.

“What are we supposed to do, Lydia? We can’t just let her go, no matter how much she hates us,” Allison whined. Scott tried to comfort her but she just stepped away from him and glared. She blamed him for a lot of this. Scott had, quite literally, thrown Stiles to the wolves. He never told her about her birthday, about how her mother died on the same day, and that they were planning a party for her. He never mentioned the promise that Stiles made to her mother or told Allison that the others were convincing her that she didn’t belong.

If anything, Scott had the most blame out of the whole pack, though the rest of them, herself included, were all tied in a close second.

“There’s nothing we can do tonight. She’s been drinking and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s drinking again. Only Allison can cross the line but Stiles doesn’t want to even see her, nor is she afraid to shoot anyone else with a shot gun. Her father probably will find out what happened, if she hasn’t already called and told him, by morning,” she listed off, mostly talking to herself. “The best we can do is leave her be. Let her calm down a bit, get her thoughts together. She needs space so we’ll give her that.”

Isaac shifted on his feet awkwardly. “We’re going to have to tell Derek sometime soon, Lydia.  He might already have an idea if he felt her separation but we can’t keep the details from him,” he added. Everyone nodded in agreement but their expressions showed a little bit of fear and worry.

“I don’t know what’s worse. Having to talk to Derek or the sheriff,” Erica muttered. Next to her, Cora snorted unhappily.

“The sheriff only has regular bullets, like Stiles. Derek knows how to torture us for hours while keeping us from healing. I think I might rather face her father at this point.”

“But if we don’t tell Derek, it will only get worse,” Allison whispered. “We’re a bunch of cowards if we don’t tell him. Stiles deserves better than that.”

Scott nodded and ran his hands through his hair. “As much as I agree with that, I don’t think we should tell him when we’re this much of a mess. It will only cause more drama. We should at least wait a few hours, until morning to tell him, so that way we know how and what we’re going to tell him.”

Jackson growled lowly. “We’re going to tell him everything, McCall. Phrasing and choice of words doesn’t mean shit now. When we tell him, it’s going to come out straight or else he’ll turn us all into leather jackets and carpets to decorate Stilinski’s house.”

“Waiting until morning is a good idea though,” Lydia murmured. “We can wait at my house and then we’ll go once Derek is awake. Sound alright? Everybody okay with that?”

Even if someone disagreed, they followed the plan. Everyone got into the cars and off to the Martin residence they went. Thankfully, no one talked the entire ride.


Derek woke up to a loud banging noise on the door to the loft. At first, he thought it might have been the wind or something but it increased pressure and the sound of protesting metal burned his ears. Growling and cursing whichever of the Betas had forgotten their key, he dragged himself out of bed and went for the door. When he opened the door though, his scowl dropped to being nearly impossible to detect.

“Sheriff?” he greeted curiously and quite disorderly. Stiles’ father stood in front of him, his gun drawn and his face crimson with a glare more likely to kill than Wolf’s Bane. Derek glanced at the time and saw that right now would have been the time he got off his second shift.

“What the hell did you and your mutts do to my daughter?” the human boomed as he pushed his way into the loft. Derek’s eyebrows shot up as he waited for John Stilinski to continue. “Why would you and your evil little pack do that to my daughter? Why did I have to come home, find her halfway passed out on the floor with cans of beer decorating the floor, and mumbling about how much she fucking hated them?”

Derek’s stunned expression turned traumatized as he paid attention to the sheriff’s words. Stiles was hurt? Stiles was drunk and passed out? She hated her pack? Before he could ask him to clarify, the sheriff started to yell again.

“I’m about two steps away from going to Chris Argent and getting those damn special bullets so I can blow each and every one of your brains out, Hale! I trusted you with my daughter; I trusted you to protect her and to keep her safe from all of this horror when really, it’s you who screwed her up in the first place!

“I tried to get her into her bed this morning because she was sprawled out on the living room floor. Do you know what she told me, Derek? That she wasn’t worth it, that I should just leave her there and let her choke on any vomit that might appear. Why? Because of you and those damn teenagers that she cherished. Cherished! She loved every single little bastard in your pack; even Whittemore who I know makes it his goal to make her miserable!”

“Sheriff, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never do anything to hurt Stiles, you know that. I meant it when I promised you I would guard her with my life. I haven’t seen her for three days though and the last time I saw the rest of the pack was yesterday afternoon. What happened to her?”

The sheriff just stared at Derek, his mouth opened and eyes big as marbles. Now Derek knew where Stiles got the doe-eyed look from.

“You honestly don’t know?” he asked in total disbelief. Derek nodded his head vigorously.

“I swear sir, I don’t. What happened to Stiles? Is she still sick? Is she hurt?”

John snorted – another trait Stiles had inherited from him. He started to back away, not completely sure whether or not to believe him. “You better ask your betas, Derek,” he said, his voice dark and deadly. “They can explain to you what they did. As for my daughter though, if you don’t fix her soon, I will get those bullets and nothing will stop me. Hell, if I explain to Chris, he might just help me. I don’t care what you do, Hale. Just make my daughter happy again. I can’t lose her as well.”

The sheriff was gone as quickly as he came. Derek was in shock. Stiles rarely drank, only once in a year or so since the Alpha pack left. She had grown up quite a bit, was more mature than the original sixteen year old he had met. Granted, she still was sarcastic as hell and hadn’t grown out of the ADHD yet but she was perfect.

Stiles Stilinski had grown on Derek Hale more than he cared to say.

After the initial shock of being threatened and hearing about his girl’s pain, Derek whipped out his phone. His anger was rising rapidly as he typed out his message, in all caps of course.




Almost immediately Derek got a response. It was from Peter.


Peter: Do I have to come…?

Derek: You’ll want to. Something happened with Stiles and I don’t know what.

Peter: Is she alright?! Is she hurt?

Derek: Physically, I think she’s fine, aside from a nasty hangover. Mentally…I don’t know. I just got my ass threatened by the sheriff… he said the betas did something to her. I don’t know what though, he wouldn’t tell me.

Peter: Leaving now. Be there ASAP.


Derek sighed. It felt good to have his old uncle back, especially when he found out about his soft spot for Stiles. Peter was just as protective over the little human as he was.

Now, all he had to do was wait before he started the interrogation.


The Betas filed in one after another, each of their heads hung in shame. It took all of Derek’s control not to bash one of their heads against the wall that minute because he could smell the guilt rolling off of everyone. Thankfully, even though he was just as pissed as Derek, Peter decided to diffuse the tension a bit.

“Well damn, look at all of you. You look like someone kicked a puppy,” he said in a light-as-the-situation-allowed tone. Derek noted that they all flinched at the term ‘puppy’. Stiles had gotten into a habit as referring to them as her puppies. “What happened? Did someone take away your alcohol for the party last night?”

None of them answered them. They avoided his and their Alpha’s gaze as the filled the large open space. Derek waited until they were all situated before asking the question he knew would create turmoil. “I thought I said this was mandatory for everyone,” he growled. It was very hard not to snap his teeth. “Where is Stiles?”

Instead of flinching, they cringed into one another.  Their eyes were casted downward, avoiding Derek with fear that he would lose his control. They even went as far as baring their necks in submission, even Allison and Lydia. Still, no one said anything.

Where the hell is Stiles?!” he asked again. It was no longer his human voice. The power of being an Alpha leaked through, vibrating against the walls of the loft while scaring each of the Betas into deeper submission, making them afraid to even breathe.

“I would answer him,” Peter murmured. His serene tone was nearly as threatening as Derek’s howl. “Neither of us is in too good of a mood to play games. Where is Stilinski and what did all of you do to her?”

“How did you know?” Cora asked in a soft whisper. She jumped when Derek roared at her.

“Having the sheriff come over screaming, threatening to murder all of you for ruining Stiles might have gave you away,” Peter muttered. He joined his nephew’s side and narrowed his eyes at the teens. “What did all of you do to cause her to hate us? Who should I kill for having my favorite niece disown me?”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Isaac whimpered. He was the first to meet Derek’s gaze. Noticing the Beta’s red eyes, they both knew that he had been crying for a long time. “We never meant to hurt her. We didn’t want her to leave the pack, Derek.”

“Leave the pack?” Derek repeated, anger and disbelief seeping in thicker. Out of all of his pack members, Stiles was probably the most loyal member, even if she was human. She was devoted to them, doing whatever she could to help them out, especially Derek. There were some days where Stiles seemed like his second but he knew that the lithe female was merely playing ‘pack mom’ to the others.

Shamefully, Derek could say he enjoyed that she took that role on her own.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with us anymore, Derek,” Erica said from behind Isaac and Boyd. “We hurt her and she told us that she was done with us. She gave us our stuff back, even your computer and information.”

Hearing that nearly broke the Alpha’s heart. The only thought that kept him from losing his mind that moment was that Erica never mentioned the two t-shirts of his that Stiles kept and often slept in.

“She was drinking,” Lydia whispered. “She said she wasn’t drunk but she was. I think that’s what caused her to cut off ties right away. She didn’t want to listen to us… she just ended it without a second thought.”

"Wouldn’t you have too?” Allison demanded to know, her voice shaking with tears as she turned on her friend. “Would you want to listen to the people who broke you, Lydia? We practically drove her to it, drinking and all!”

Peter held up his hand, silencing the group. “Wait a minute, pups; if you knew she was drinking again and that she was hurting, why didn’t you go after her? Why not bring her here so we could fix whatever mess you created, instead of leaving her to self-destruction? She probably hates you even more for that now because you gave up to easily.”

“We wanted to go after her,” Isaac answered. “We wanted to go to her but we couldn’t.”

“And why is that?” Derek growled. More flinches occurred.

“She sealed off the house, Derek,” Jackson muttered. “There’s a giant ring of mountain ash surrounding the building. She must have gotten it from Deaton before we got there.”

“Allison?” Peter suggested.

Boyd laughed grimly as the teenagers recalled what had happened when their other local human tried to go to her. “She threatened to shoot any of the Betas if Allison crossed the circle,” he explained. When Peter’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline and Derek just stared, he continued to explain. “She found her dad’s old shot gun, I guess. We literally watched her load the damn thing up and aim at Scott. She wasn’t lying either when she told us she had no problem with demonstrating.”

Despite how inappropriate it was, Derek couldn’t help but feel proud of Stiles. She was feisty, unafraid of pissing off a creature that could easily kill her. Not that any of the Betas would do that, even if Derek was questioning their motives since it sounded like they killed Stiles emotionally.

When Derek looked over at Peter, he noticed that he was thinking along the same lines. Peter’s lips flattened into a line, his eyes narrowed as he pondered. It was sort of weird for Derek to see his uncle thinking about something so hard because Peter was usually a blasé type of man.

“It’s a shame she didn’t shoot any of you,” he finally said. While the Betas looked horrified, Derek had to focus on Stiles’ pain just to keep from laughing. “Anyway, what exactly happened that caused my little one to despise us so?”

Silence again. Derek was sick of it. “Someone better answer,” he snapped. “Any one, someone, everyone… you’ve got thirty seconds before I break someone’s bones.”

Cora was the one who spoke up. She knew Derek was beyond serious. “We hurt her,” she answered, causing Peter to snort at her obviousness. “We broke her trust and made her feel unwanted. We also forgot and broke a few promises.”

“There’s more than you are telling,” Derek said, noting their increasing heart rates. Peter agreed. “Is anyone going to explain what really happened?”

All of the Betas shifted uneasily on their feet. When Peter looked at each of them, they ducked their heads again, hoping that they wouldn’t be the ones to tell Derek and Peter what went on in details.

Turning to Scott, his expression peaked with interest. “You are the only one who hasn’t spoken so far, which kind of amazes me since you and Stilinski are practically joined at the hip. If it weren’t for the difference in gender, I’d swear you were the same person. Still, I can’t help but wonder if you caused a part of this.”

Scott cursed silently to himself. He should have known that he would have been the one who had to start. “Stiles and I decided to plan a party a little while ago. It was for her birthday… her eighteenth birthday. She wanted to make a big deal about it because we haven’t celebrated for the past two years with the problems we’ve had. We had everything planned out and… we forgot about it. I forgot about her birthday. We were too busy having a party for Jackson.”

“Her eighteenth birthday was yesterday?” Derek asked incredulously. He looked over at Peter and saw that his uncle was just as clueless as he was. “Why didn’t anyone tell us?”        

Scott shrugged uneasily. “We didn’t think you would care, really.”

Derek wanted to rip his throat out for that comment. He cared about everything concerning Stiles, down to how often she would blink those pretty eyes or how she would fidget if she sat a certain way for longer than a minute. Before he could come up with a threat, Peter spoke, knowing it was the only way to prevent Derek from killing the True Alpha.

“That’s what caused all of this? Stiles is pissed because you decided to be crappy friends that forget about the plans you’ve made so you could party a different way?” he questioned. Judging by how they avoided his gaze again, he knew that wasn’t it. “What else happened?”

Deciding to grow a pair for once, Jackson spoke. “We... or well, mostly me… I made her feel like she wasn’t part of the pack.”

“We all did,” Boyd added quietly. “We were only joking, or at least I thought we were. We just thought we would mess with her.”

Allison turned on him just like she had done to Lydia. “That’s bullshit and you know it!” she growled, surprising both Peter and Derek. “You told her repeatedly that she wasn’t a part of the pack! All of you made her an outcast.”

Derek froze. His whole body went rigid and his eyes flashed bright red. Peter, though cursing like a sailor as he tried to keep control, laid a hand on Derek’s arm, trying to get the young Alpha to calm down. Unlike the others, Peter knew that Derek had chosen Stiles to be his mate, if she accepted. To hear that his own pack had done that to her, had ostracized her… well, they were lucky they still had their limbs. “Derek,” he whispered quietly. It did nothing to sooth him though.

“You did what?”

Allison went into explaining what she meant. She repeated the words that the others had confessed to saying to Stiles, about how useless she was and how they only kept her around for certain jobs. She told him how Jackson and Boyd had told her that she really never was a pack member, and that the others just laughed. When she said that no one had said anything to defend her, Isaac hung his head disgracefully.

“If I had known before, I would have told you,” Allison sniffled. “I would have done something about it. She never told me before… I never noticed that she was hurting.”

“So it was a build-up of that and then the whole forgotten birthday?” Peter clarified. Though he couldn’t put his finger on it, he knew something was missing. “I can see how that would cause Stiles to be this upset but I have a feeling you aren’t telling us something. What are you leaving out?”

Allison turned on Scott, her glare filled with pain and anger. “Why don’t you tell them Scott? Tell Peter and Derek what really hurt Stiles the most in this whole mess.”

Scott looked like he was about to cry. It was the first time since he was turned that he had been such a mess but it was his own fault this time. He had caused all of this and it was time he finally took responsibility for it.

“Stiles’ birthday is more than just a birthday,” he whispered. “It’s also a death anniversary. Her mom died on her birthday when she was a kid.”


Whether anyone knew it was coming or not, they didn’t try to stop it from happening. Derek launched himself at Scott, moving quick as a flash of lightning, before he tackled him to the ground and drew his fist back. The punches were fast and strong, lasting seconds before being repeated. When Scott’s face was all bloody and bruised, Peter, with the help of the Betas, pulled Derek off before he killed him.

“You little shit,” Derek growled as he strained against them. His fangs were extended completely and his eyes were glowing crimson, thirsting for Scott’s blood in revenge for Stiles. “How could you do that to her? How could you do that to your best friend? Don’t you know how painful it is to lose someone you love, that you depend on?”

“I didn’t mean to forget!” Scott cried out as he moved far away from Derek. “It wasn’t on purpose, I swear. I don’t know how I forgot about her mom but I really didn’t mean to.”

“Derek, calm down,” Peter hissed as Derek fought to break from their hold and go after him. “Stiles might hate them right now but if you kill him, she’ll never even think about forgiving us, especially you.”

It helped some but the vendetta he wanted for her was nearly just as strong. All he could remember was the pain he had when he lost his family in the fire, and then when Laura was killed. He could only imagine that Stiles felt similar, if not the same way. She had lost someone and then probably felt like the family she thought she knew was gone. He hated it, loathed the fact that Stiles was possibly in the same situation Derek had barely healed form.

“Did the rest of you know?” Peter asked in a bark. “Did you know about Stiles’ mother dying on her birthday?”

Only Lydia nodded. The rest were innocent in this part.

“Maybe you should go to her, Derek,” Peter then whispered as he yanked the Alpha away from the others. Derek shook his head, his emotions going haywire.

“She doesn’t want any of us near her. I wouldn’t either if I were her,” he answered. He ran his hand through his hair, clamping his eyes shut as he tried to compose himself. “Damn it, Peter, how did we not see this? How did we not notice she was hurting? That they were hurting her? How did I not see it?”

His uncle sighed and rubbed his back in a comforting motion. “Stiles is very good at acting, Derek. You know that. She always has been able to hide her emotions from us.”

He knew it was true. God, did he ever. Stiles used sarcasm as a defense mechanism and he picked up on it sometimes but did she cover this up with it as well? Did she try to ignore it? She did always say her motto was to ignore a problem until it went away. It just didn’t happen that way this time.

“I should have been able to see it still, Peter,” Derek growled. “I’m her mate for God’s sake! I’m supposed to hear the words she doesn’t say, to see what she doesn’t want to show. I’m supposed to know these things and protect her from it.”

“Mate?” Scott questioned, anxious and sort of angry. “You’re mated to Stiles? What the hell, Derek? You used to slam her into walls and bruise her all the time. Why would you do that if she was your mate? That’s just sick!”

Before Derek said anything, Peter beat him to it. He spun on Scott, taking him by surprise. His eyes glowed blue in warning, fangs extended. He wasn’t afraid to take the True Alpha down, especially when it came to Stiles.

“If you want to talk about sick, think about what you just did to your best friend, McCall. Think about everything that just happened. You, child, have no room to talk after what you did to her,” he said through gritted teeth. “In fact, none of you do. None of you have the right, except maybe Allison, to chastise each other for what you have done tonight.”

“I’m just as guilty as the rest of them,” Allison murmured sullenly. Peter softened only the tiniest bit when his gaze flickered to her.

“You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t know about what was happening to her. The rest of them did. The only thing you are to be blamed for is the same as Derek and I – not seeing the whole picture. Try not to beat yourself up.”

Everyone was quiet when Derek crashed onto the couch, covering his head with his hands. Scott’s words stuck to him, reminding him of something he’d always feel guilty for. His trust issues and lack of emotion, though not anywhere near good excuses, were behind his actions against Stiles over the past two years. It was also the fact that as his mate, he forgot that she was still human and that she couldn’t withstand his strength. Only in the past few months had he learned to control it.

The sad part was that Stiles cornered him, asking him what was wrong since he wasn’t acting like ‘himself’. Peter had definitely gotten a kick out of that.

“How do we fix this then?” Lydia asked quietly from behind Jackson. “How do we help Stiles?”

“You don’t,” Derek answered gruffly. He looked up from his hands and scowled at the group of teenagers. “None of you will do anything. In fact, I want you to listen to her and stay the fuck away from her. Don’t talk to her, don’t look at her, and don’t even think about her… unless it’s about what you did.”

The group whimpered and whined in pain. “We can’t do that!” Isaac groaned. “We want to fix what we did. We want Stiles back in the pack, Derek!”

One growl warning howl from Derek quieted them all. Peter took advantage and spoke. “If you just try to jump back into her life now, she’ll hate you more for it. It’s bad enough you gave up so easily last night when she was smashed, but if you immediately try to act like nothing’s wrong… you know Stiles, kiddos. Do the math.

“She needs time to grieve this. Right now, she feels like she lost her pack. That’s worse than losing family in some cases but for her, we were her family. Even though she cut the ties, she feels like we have abandoned her. On top of that, she was already grieving the loss of her mother. This isn’t something you can just ‘fix’. I don’t even think Derek and I can do anything yet.”

Derek sighed and shook his head. “No, we can’t. The minute she sees any of us, she’ll shut down.”

“But,” Peter paused and looked at Allison curiously. “After a while, she might see that you’re innocent, Miss Argent. You might have a chance. Same with Derek and I. The rest of you will have to wait and see if time can heal what you’ve done.”

They spent about an hour more describing what had gone on with Stiles in detail so Peter and Derek knew exactly how much damage had been done. There were several times that Derek nearly killed one of the Betas again and there were definitely a lot of tears from the guilty perpetrators. When all of it was said and done though, the loft turned into an eerie lull.

That’s all it took for them to realize how much their loss affected them.

“Thank God it’s Saturday. At least she’ll have time to recover,” Derek finally sighed. Peter agreed and sat down next to his nephew to listen. “I can’t even imagine… well, I can sort of imagine the pain she’s going through.”

“It’s worse than what we’ve experienced, Derek. When we lost the family, when you lost Laura, you knew they were dead. Death brought closure because you knew that was it. There was nothing beyond that. For Stiles though… there is no closure, at least not yet. I imagine there won’t be for a while, especially since she’ll still see the others around. The pain she’s going through now could be considered to a mother having her child kidnapped. Never knowing what the outcome will be until it actually happens. Stiles doesn’t know what will happen now that she’s lost her pack.”

The Alpha rubbed his palms into his eyes, growling and moaning for his mate. “And there’s nothing I can do to help her now.”

Peter sighed. “No, not yet there isn’t. She’ll have to deal with this on her own for a little bit,” he said quietly. “The same will go for you. You’ll feel her pain as well as your own from being separated from her.”

“I should have told her when I had the chance. I should have told her how I felt. At least she would have known someone cared about her now,” he whispered, earning a somewhat comforting pat on the shoulder from his uncle. Peter turned and glared at the awkward Betas.

“I think all of you should leave,” he muttered. “Isaac, stay with someone else for a while. And if I hear about any harassment toward Stiles, I will personally kill all of you. Now get out.”

They didn’t hesitate at all.


Allison didn’t say anything in the car ride with Scott. After dropping off everyone except Isaac, Scott tried to talk to her but she ignored him. She desperately wanted to believe that Scott wouldn’t do that to his best friend but then again, he ditched Stiles for her more times than she wanted to confess. Now, if Isaac hadn’t been in the car, Allison might have yelled and screamed at him for what happened.

Instead, she got out without a word when he pulled up in front of her house.

By the time she reached the front door, tears were streaming down her face. She had tried to hold them back on the way over, only missing two or three lone drops that rolled down her cheeks but the only thing that held them back was her anger for Scott. Now that she was away from him and the anger disappeared, the barriers disappeared.

After locking the door and hearing Scott pull away, she leaned back against it and wept. She held her face in her hands as her body shook, her knees finally giving out and her body sliding closer and closer to the floor until she landed with a small thump. Her sobs got stronger until they echoed throughout the foyer.

“Ally?” Chris Argent called out curiously. He appeared through his office door with a worried look. When he saw his daughter on the floor crying her guts out, his expression softened and he took a seat next to her. “Honey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“She’s gone, dad,” the teenager whimpered. Chris’ eyebrows rose up, beginning to inquisitive again.

“Who, Allison?”

“Stiles, dad,” she whined. “Stiles left the pack. She was right to do it but it still hurts.”

Chris was beyond amazed. His reaction was similar to Derek’s – he couldn’t believe it. Stiles was more loyal than the werewolves when it came to the Hale pack. She was the last person to be expected to leave. “Are you sure? What happened?”

Allison repeated the same tale she had told Derek in between hiccups and soft whimpers. It was hard to think about the treatment she had gone through by her family, her pack. It was a wonder that she didn’t leave before, Chris thought.

"And why didn’t Derek do anything to stop them from hurting her?”

“They didn’t know. Peter, Derek, and I…we didn’t have a clue what was happening. We would have stopped it if we knew Dad, I swear. But I can’t get near Stiles… she doesn’t want me near her.”

Chris had taught Allison never to give in, no matter what the situation was, and he wasn’t about to let her start. Though he could imagine that Stiles really didn’t want to see Allison, it didn’t mean that he was also banned from the Stilinski house.

“I’ll tell you what,” he murmured softly to her. “We’ll follow Peter’s advice and leave her be for a little bit. She’s probably a mess and she’ll need to be with her father. Later on though, we’re going shopping for a birthday present. We’ll get her something special, okay? And then, in a few days I’ll drop it off for her. It’ll show her we care about her and then she can decide on whether or not she wants to interact with us. I don’t know if it will work but we’ll try. Does that sound like a good idea, Ally?”

Allison nodded and sniffled. “I just can’t not do anything for her. I love her too much to let her go, Dad. Stiles is the one who holds us together.”

“I know, honey,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know.”

Chapter Text

“Stiles. Stiles, please unlock the door.”

Stiles pretended she didn’t hear her father as she sat on the side of the tub. It was the one place in the house without a window. She needed to be away from all of the windows because the simple structure reminded her of the pack, especially the one in her room. It was how they got into her house most of the time. She’d never understood what they had against the front door.

“Stiles, please… you can’t stay in your bathroom forever.”

"Why not? I have water, snacks, and a toilet. I should be alright,” she answered. Even with a hangover and heartbreak, she was still the master of sarcasm. They won’t take that away from me, too, she though, bitter. They can kiss my ass before they do.

“And what about school? Do you plan on learning in the bathroom as well?”

“I have my laptop in here, too, Dad. I hear that online schooling is better than the real thing.”

Her father groaned in frustration. She heard a distinct thud against the paneled wood and could only imagine what the sheriff looked like as he banged his head against it. She would have laughed at any other time but she was past humor. Nothing seemed funny to her now. That left the minute those mutts vacated her lawn last night.

“And when you run out of snacks?”

Stiles snorted. “If I stretch it, I have a lifetime supply of Fritos.”

“What if you get a craving for curly fries and pizza? Huh? What then, daughter of mine?”

“Shit,” she muttered and smacked her palm against her forehead. She hadn’t thought of that. She might have been in pain but to cut herself off from the Food of the Gods was crazy talk. That would be like letting them win. Hell, that’s worse than crawling back to the pack.

She opened the door and pouted at her father. “Fine, I see your point.”

The sheriff sighed in relief when he got the first glimpse of his daughter after hours of her being locked up in the bathroom. He yanked her across the threshold and hugged her tightly, satisfaction sinking in all the way to his toes. “Thank you.”

“It just... it hurts. They’ve all been in here, dad. It’s like even the smallest, unimportant detail reminds me of them,” she breathed softly. “I feel like I’m suffocating in here.”

“Did you get rid of all of their stuff?” he questioned. She nodded as she spared a glance at the room she was starting to despise. "What if we redecorated everything? Got all new furniture and changed it up… make it look like a different place. Would that help?”

Stiles looked at her dad uncertainly. “Can we afford to do that?”

The sheriff nodded and smiled lightly. “Sure! There’s an auction for charity coming up so we could donate whatever you don’t want to keep. I have some money saved up so we could use that. We could do the shopping online as well, unless you want to go out.”

She shook her head. “No. Absolutely not, not unless I have to.”

“Understandable. Do you want to start cleaning out now and until we get the stuff, you can sleep in the guest bedroom?”

“I like the sound of that,” she answered hesitantly. Glancing back at the room again, she bit her lip until the skin broke. The color of the walls was eating at her emotions more than everything else. It reminded her of a certain Alpha’s eyes before he became an alpha. That had to change immediately. “Can I paint it?”

“What color?”

“Purple, I think, purple and black; It would be different.”

“Well, sort through what you want and then we’ll get rid of the rest, alright? Are we getting rid of the dresser and bed as well?” John asked. Stiles nodded and asked if that was alright, to which he replied it was more than alright. “Just- put all of your clothes in the guest room closet and we’ll go from there.”

The sheriff was glad that he had taken the day off to be with Stiles because their chores took until nightfall to be completed. The dresser, bed, desk, and chair were now in the garage, waiting to be taken down to the church for the auction while piles of boxes filled with unwanted objects, clothes, and other mementos sat on the curb with the rest of the trash. The sheriff had gone out for paint after dinner and when he came back, Stiles was bouncing around.

“How much Adderall did you take?”

“The maximum without overdosing,” she muttered as she went into a dusting frenzy. The radio was blasting so loud that he was shocked none of the neighbors complained yet.

“How do you plan on sleeping with that much in your system?”

“That’s the point, daddy-o,” she told him, rolling her eyes at him before returning to cleaning the closest shelves. “I won’t sleep, not yet. Sleep means dreams, which means nightmares about them. And I’d rather not be asleep if I get any visitors.”

“You have enough Mountain Ash around this place to keep an army of wolves out, Stiles. I highly doubt any of them will come by, especially after you threatened to shoot them.”

Stiles’ face flushed as she shot into an upright position. “What?” she squeaked.

“You left the shotgun out with the shell next to it on the kitchen table,” he answered gently. “I just figured that’s what happened… I’m not mad. I know you know how to use a firearm correctly so calm down. But I’m just saying, I doubt they’ll be doing anything so soon after that.”

“You don’t know them,” she muttered as she took the cans of paint from his hands. “They might not physically come at me but that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there now. Watching. Werewolves have a particularly creepy habit of lurking in shadows.”

“Nothing I say is going to change your mind for the next few days, is it?” When Stiles shook her head to answer, John exhaled and rubbed his forehead. “Well, alright… just don’t go overboard, please. I don’t need you in the emergency room from exhaustion, Stiles. Or an overdose.”

“Alright, major,” she replied with a salute.

“And Stiles? I don’t think you should go to school on Monday… maybe not for a few days. You can miss a week, can’t you?”

“No. I don’t want to give them that satisfaction, Dad,” she explained, uncapping the cans and contemplating them for a moment, before picking up a stick to stir the paint. Once it was the right color she started pouring it into basins for her brushes and rollers. “Sure, I’ll probably end up being out for a few days but a week is pushing it. Besides, I have to talk to Coach about practice. I’m thinking about taking a break so I don’t have to deal with them. Will that be alright with you?”

The sheriff was more than alright with her plan. In his mind, being far away from those boys was the best thing for Stiles after how they’d hurt her. He would be happy if they left her alone for years upon years. But the others…            

“Stiles, I know those kids hurt you,” he started carefully, pausing as he watched her skeptical reaction while she dipped a brush into the paint, “but what about Derek? And Peter? Did they hurt you, too?”

"No,” she answered sharply, confirming his discussion with Derek at the loft. “But they didn’t stop them, either.”

“Did they know, though?” he pressed on, voice soft. Stiles flinched, her eyes clamping shut. For about a year now, John could have sworn Stiles had given up on her crush on Lydia and switched her affections to Derek. It made sense – the alpha was Stiles’ anchor. He had become her rock, despite how much she claimed she detested him.

“How could they not know?” she asked in a whisper. For the first time since she opened the door, Stiles sounded weak and broken. She was vulnerable as she thought about the two men who came to be as important as her father. They were her Achilles’ heel, her target spot. They made her feel defenseless and paralyzed. “How could they not see the looks, hear the insults? How could they not notice that I wasn’t a part of the pack like they told me I was?”  

That was a good point as well, but Derek had looked scared and worried when the Sheriff had gone after him that morning. Thinking back on it and analyzing it completely, he knew that the Alpha hadn’t known. Since getting to know Peter as well, he understood that he was almost as protective of his daughter as Derek was.

“Maybe they just weren’t paying enough attention to them, Stiles. Did it ever happen over at the loft?”

Stiles shook her head. “No,” she answered after thinking about it for a moment. They had never said anything near Peter or Derek. It was always at school or at another house. But still, wouldn’t they have known?

“Even if they didn’t, it’s not like I can ignore the fact that they’re all together. I can’t look at them and not remember what happened, Dad. That’s like looking at a picture of mom and not remembering that she’s dead.”

At the thought of her mother, a tear leaked down her cheek. She still couldn’t understand how Scott had forgotten about the anniversary. He was the one person who was able to deal with her moodiness and cheer her up so she could follow through on her promise. When her father was grieving in a way that only he could understand, her best friend was the one who was able to hold her together. And he’d forgotten all about it.

What kind of friend was that?

“At least think about them, Stiles. You know Peter and Derek would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.”

She didn’t want to think about them… or, well, Derek, at least. She might be able to think about her favorite adopted uncle every so often and miss him without shattering to pieces. She had good memories to rely on when she needed a reminder. Derek though, those memories were... different...and would hurt even to think about for a second.

Despite the first few months of denial, Stiles had finally recognized the fact that it wasn’t just a crush. It was like nothing she had experienced before, that was for sure. She didn’t feel the same awkwardness when she was around him. She didn’t become shy. If anything, she talked more when she was around him. He made her more sarcastic, braver when it came to defending herself. No one else did that, not even Scott or Isaac, except for when she was angry at them.

“It hurts to think about,” she finally admitted. Nodding slowly, the sheriff gathered his daughter in his arms. “It feels like I’ve lost mom all over again, dad. Does it ever stop?”

“It’ll never stop hurting. But you’ll learn to handle it better,” he answered. “Just promise me something, kid. You don’t have to forgive them. You don’t have to talk to them or see them. Just give it time though… don’t cut off everyone. If you feel like you can be around Peter and Derek eventually, try it out. Don’t make them suffer for what the others did, alright?”

It wasn’t an easy promise but she knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer. She told him she would try and she would but she couldn’t make any promises. He accepted that and after turning her music down, he started to leave the room. He paused though and looked over his shoulder at her.

“Stiles, did you know a kid named Greenberg? He apparently went to your school.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow as she looked back at him. She repressed the urge to gag at the sound of Greenberg’s name. That kid was creepy; never acting normal since his first day in Beacon Hills.

He was common ground between Stiles and Coach Finstock. They were both grossed out by him.

“He’s on the lacrosse team,” she answered. “Why? What about him?”

John skirted around her question. “Were you close with him?”

Snorting sarcastically, Stiles shook her head. “No, thank God. That kid is more disturbing than the fact that Coach wanted you to call him cupcake. Why are you asking, though?”

“He was reported missing last night Stiles. He never came home after work.”

The sheriff left her room, leaving her to redecorating. Stiles stared at the door for a minute before looking out the window into the darkness. She wondered if any of the pack were watching her and shivered.

Ignoring the urge to give whoever was out there the one fingered salute, she turned her laptop off and switched to her iPod, blasting the music through the ear buds as loud as she could without doing herself permanent hearing damage.


The only one who watched the bright light coming from Stiles’ room was Derek. After hours of debating the pros and cons with Peter, he finally left the loft with the excuse of wanting to see how well Stiles had barricaded the house with the mountain ash.

On the way there, he sort of expected to see one of the betas lurking as well but when he’d arrived, he was glad that there was no-one anywhere near the Stilinski house. He knew if they had been there, a fight would have broken out, especially since by being there they would have gone directly against his orders.

Even from across the street, he could hear the music from her iPod. She wasn’t dancing around like she normally would be, though. Her steps were heavy and restless against the carpeted floor. Along with the music, he could hear the splashes of some thick type of liquid. A small squeak from metal sounded every few seconds, as if something was being rubbed over and over.

He looked away, only to have all the trash on the curb catch his attention.

“What the hell?” he whispered to himself as he walked over to the mess. He looked into several of the boxes, instantly recognizing the various items from Stiles’ room. There were comic books and trinkets mixed in with pieces of clothing. Panic surged through the Alpha and the next thing he knew, he was digging through every single box.

After an hour, he felt relieved. His shirts weren’t in the trash. Stiles had kept them.

That was a good thing, wasn’t it?


Stiles tried. She really did try, honestly. 

On Tuesday morning, she was able to force herself to get out of her new (bigger! queen sized, even!) bed, got dressed in something that wasn’t an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants, and somewhat groomed herself. She managed to get shoes on, her bag packed, and food into her stomach without spitting it back up. She didn’t hesitate when grabbing her keys and starting the Jeep. She didn’t faint while driving to school. She succeeded in parking in the first row, nabbing a coveted spot right near the doors.

She just couldn’t get out.

There could have been several different reasons for this. First, her left foot had fallen asleep and was now flooded with pins-and-needles. Maybe she couldn’t move? Second, she could have forgotten something at home, like an important homework assignment or a necessary book. It would be humiliating to walk in after being a no-show yesterday unprepared, especially with her teachers.

Who was she kidding? It was because of the group of supernatural thugs staring at her Jeep with wide and confused eyes. That’s what scared her into starting the Jeep again, texting her father, and leaving the school without even opening the door.

Stiles had tried and failed. She should have just taken her father’s advice and stayed home another day or so. At least then she wouldn’t have embarrassed herself.


“Would it be inappropriate to say I knew that was going to happen?” Jackson asked, quietly. He wasn’t trying to be funny or anything but from the looks he got from his pack and the slap from his Banshee girlfriend, it came across as a joke.

“Derek said she needed time,” Lydia hissed at him, making him look even more ashamed.

“Derek also said not to even look at her. We basically just stared her down. That’s probably why she left,” Erica added, rolling her eyes at their foolishness. Taking Boyd’s hand, she yanked him into the building. Lydia and Jackson followed their lead, leaving Scott, Cora, and Isaac behind.

The three of them were definitely an ugly sight. Scott looked dejected, Cora was pissed off but only at herself, and Isaac watched the Jeep leave with wide eyes, making an aborted move to run after it. They were the misfit musketeers, the three handling it the worst out of the pack. At least the others had each other to depend on when the guilt became too much.

“Where’s Allison?” Cora asked, wanting to change the topic and clear the air. It did the opposite, Scott’s face fell and he looked even more broken.

“She won’t talk to him,” Isaac explained when Scott refused to answer. “She’s like Derek and Peter, pissed off and holding a grudge.”

There was nothing else to say to that.


Stiles ended up staying out the entire week, much to her dismay. She resented her father for being right about needing so much time. It was almost as if he understood the effects of supernatural abandonment better than she did.

Thankfully though, the Sheriff arranged for one of his deputies to pick up all of her school work so she wouldn’t be so far behind. They dropped it off Thursday evening, giving her the night, and all of Friday to work on it. With the lack of interesting shows on the TV and the boredom stemming from knowing every level of her favorite games backwards, she had nothing better to do and finished all of it by the Friday evening.

Just as the boredom was about to step in again, the Sheriff rescued her by coming home with a chocolate milkshake and a bag full of curly fries.

“Damn,” she whimpered when the aroma hit her full force, taking the bag from him and attacking them at the dinner table. “You are so much my hero that I’ll forget I even saw that bacon cheeseburger in your hand.”

John Stilinski rolled his eyes and ignored her comment when he got a beer from the fridge. “I figured we both needed something comforting after this week. Was I right?” Stiles answered in the affirmative through a mouthful of fries, making her father laugh. “Good to see my old Stiles back. I was beginning to feel like you switched and replaced my punk of a daughter.”

Stiles narrowed her eyes, her cheeks puffed like a squirrel’s from being stuffed with fries. “Funny,” she muttered, somehow managing to not spit any of it out. She took a few moments swallowing every piece of fried potato goodness before saying more. “If I continue to act like your BAMF Stiles again, will you get me another bag of this?”

“Only if you ignore my cheeseburgers,” he answered with a sly smile. The pout on her face turned into a full-fledged frown. Keeping her gaze intent on her father, she reached to the side for her milkshake and took a long slurp. After the brain freeze receded, she finally blinked but never lost her expression.

“We never speak of this moment again, okay? It’s a deal.”

From that moment, it was all small talk. Stiles mostly questioned her father about her job, especially when it came to Greenberg. The sheriff explained that they found him a few miles south in some other town with a bunch of punks. It was a surprise to her because even if Greenberg was creepy, he wasn’t that type of creepy.

“We literally had to drag him out of there, kid. He didn’t want to go home,” he explained as he munched on his burger. That was even stranger to Stiles. Greenberg was a mama’s boy through and through.

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door. Startled, Stiles whipped around with wide, doe-like eyes and stared at it as if she could see through the solid wood. That hadn’t happened since before the disaster of her birthday. Of course, in the tiny little rational part of her Swiss cheese brain, she knew none of the wolves could get across the barrier of Mountain Ash, but then again, Stiles hadn’t been rational since the day her mother died.

“I’ll get it,” the sheriff told her, wincing at his daughter’s reaction. He wondered how much Adderall she’d taken that morning to be so jumpy still at this hour. Then again, the girl used to run with werewolves. Maybe she had a reason to be jittery even without near-overdosing on her meds.

Once he reached the door, John pulled the curtain of the small window to the side in order to see who was out there. For a split second, he thought maybe one of the idiot boys had found a way around the black-powder border but that idea was quickly squashed when he saw Chris Argent standing on the porch with a bag in each hand. He unlocked the door and opened it far enough to step outside, his body keeping the other man blocked from Stiles’ view.

“Chris?” he asked, curious, wondering why he was here. He looked over his shoulder for Allison but the girl was nowhere in sight.

“Sheriff,” he greeted with an uneasy smile. He kept his voice quiet, knowing that Stiles was probably trying to listen in. “How is she doing?”

“She’s… getting there. Did your girl explain what happened?”

Mr. Argent nodded and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yes, she did. She told me everything; feels terribly guilty as well. I know Stiles probably doesn’t believe it but I think you should know that Allison honestly didn’t know what was going on.”       

“She’s dating McCall,” the Sheriff replied flatly. “How could she not know?”

The ex-hunter shrugged. “They were… can’t say for sure, now though. You know teenagers, John. When they’re in love, or they think they are, they don’t think or talk about anything but themselves and their relationship. And as much as it seems unlikely, Allison loves Stiles like a sister. I’m sure she would have stepped up for her even if it meant going against the pack.”

John sighed and peeked over his shoulder. He saw Stiles still sitting at the table but looking at him with wide eyes. She couldn’t see Chris but after years of practice with Deaton and the wolves, Stiles definitely had better hearing than most humans. She could pick up most of their conversation just from where she sat.

"Do you want to talk to her?” the Sheriff asked as he faced Chris again. “She can hear you so you, you know. It’s not like your arrival has been a secret.”

Chris chuckled and shook his head, his baritone voice speaking out at normal volume now. “No, not unless she wants to talk. I just came by to drop these off. Allison and I want to make amends because no matter what happened with the others, Stiles is still family to us,” he answered, holding out the two brightly colored gift bags. “I can assure you, Stiles is always welcome at the Argent house without having to worry about anyone she might not want to see turning up.”

Stiles’ dad nearly started to respond but Mr. Argent held up his hand. He leaned forward, putting his lips near the sheriff’s ear. “Hale is out here watching over her. None of his betas will come within range of the house while he is. He’s banished them from the loft too, except for his uncle.”

“Did you talk to him?” John asked, his own voice barely above a murmur. Chris nodded.

“He’s waiting, giving her time to heal a little bit before he tries to talk to her. He says he’ll respect the line she’s drawn for now, as well. You can tell her she can rest peacefully tonight, with the lights off. He’ll keep her safe.”

John took the bags from Chris and said his thanks. The ex-hunter smiled again and looked over the other mans’ shoulder, making brief eye contact with a surprised Stiles. He nodded once, hoping he would get some response. He must have done something right, because Stiles nodded back. It was stiff but it was a positive reaction, nonetheless.

Once Chris was back in his car, the Sheriff closed the door and looked over at Stiles. Her eyes were still wide and almost childlike but she wasn’t as frozen as her father had thought she was.

"Did he mean that?” she asked quietly. “Allison didn’t know?”

He nodded and came closer to Stiles. Handing her the bags, he said, “I believe him. As much as I know she‘s attached to McCall, I can’t see her supporting the things he did. Can you honestly tell me that she wouldn’t have been on him about your birthday if he’d told her about it?”

Though Stiles wanted to believe that Allison was just as bad as the rest of them, her father was right. Allison was sweeter than a spoonful of brown sugar. She was more innocent than a Disney princess with that contagious smile. Even her voice made her something to be admired.

Damn you, Argent, Stiles cursed internally but managed to keep her face straight for her fathers’ benefit. “No,” she admitted stubbornly. “No, I guess I can’t.”

The sheriff nodded with a soft smile and took a seat opposite his daughter. “You aren’t as alone as you feel, kid. At least Allison and her father are trying to sort this out. It’s more than you can say for the others, right?”

Stiles winced, her heart freezing for a split second at the reminder. Though she had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with them, and by all means she was being stubborn about that as well, she was still hurt they weren’t fighting her on her decision. Aside from the Argents and the incident at school, she had heard nothing from the pack.

Confused more than anything, she wondered if they were actually listening to her for the first time, ever. It was one hell of a time to start listening, especially when they had been so adamant to prove her wrong the night they’d come by. If they were so sure they were her family, that they were pack, where were they?

Didn’t family fight for family anymore?

Pushing those thoughts aside, she curled her fingers tightly around the handles of the bags. She didn’t need to be thinking that way. Her decision was final and she refused to dwell on a bunch of supernatural thugs that broke her heart to pieces.

“Why don’t you go up and see what they got you? Think about what Chris said, alright pumpkin?” the Sheriff suggested. Stiles nodded numbly and turned to go upstairs. She was nearly on the first step before she was called to a standstill. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her father watching her with concerned eyes. “One more thing, Stiles; Chris said you can sleep with the light off tonight. No one is going to hurt you, now.”

He left her feeling even more bewildered. What in the hell did that even mean? Stiles wondered, staring off after him with her mouth open. Are the hunters guarding me now?

Stiles went back up to her room and closed the door. Flicking the switch, she lit the room but only dimly as she looked at the window. It had been locked shut and cut off by thick curtains ever since she finished renovating her room. For the past few days, she refused to go near it, even look at it.

Taking what Chris had said to heart was a big leap for her. She sat the bags down on the bed and crossed the window quickly before she could change her mind. She tore the curtains apart and yanked at the latch. Within seconds, she pushed the window up and took the screen out. Her eyes drifted closed when she was hit with a strong breeze and the soft sounds of the evening.

It was a breath of fresh air for her, literally. Stiles inhaled deeply, tasting what seemed to be freedom on the tip of her tongue.  It was a rush after a week of concealing herself away from the world yet somehow the muscles in her body relaxed from the exposure.

When she opened her eyes, she only wished her imagination wasn’t so cruel. Stiles swore she could see a pair of crimson eyes staring back at her from the shadows across the street.

“You aren’t that lucky, Stilinski,” she muttered to herself as she turned her back on the open window.



Chapter Text

Relief was an understatement to describe what Derek felt when he saw his amber eyed angel at the window. It had been the first time he had seen her in over a week, and it had come at the right time. His chest ached at the lack of her presence.

Her reaction was something out of a dream when she pulled the screen out. It was like Derek could see the stress and pain roll off her with the gush of wind that had hit her. She looked so carefree and restful in that moment that Derek had let his control go, his eyes flashing red. She chose that moment to open her eyes and met his gaze. Derek had prayed she would acknowledge him but from the way she looked, Stiles hadn’t seen him.

When she turned around, the Alpha nearly feel out of her neighbor’s tree with a whimper.

He wanted her back. He needed her back.

Derek had barely left his makeshift stakeout until Monday morning. He continued to keep watch over the house, only leaving for a change of clothes, bathroom breaks, and food. When the week arrived though, he decided he would follow her to the high school and make sure the Betas were keeping their promise.

It was the least he could do for their pack leader. God knows Stiles was more of one then he was.


Staring at the mirror, Stiles could have sworn she was looking at someone else. She had lost weight from her change in diet, though she could have sworn that the amount of curly fries the sheriff had been feeding her would have had the opposite effect. Her cheekbones were sharper, more defined and contrasted with a persistent flush. Other than her now usual blush and the moles that had plagued her since childhood, her skin had become faint and paler. That was something she could only blame herself for since she refused to leave the house. Her hair wasn’t in one of her crazy designs but instead was pulled back in an ugly, messy bun.

The worst were her eyes though. They were like mud, no longer the same golden hue she treasured. Stiles knew her spark was gone. The wolves had taken it with them, she swore. Where else could it have gone?

She tried to work with the rest of her body though. After throwing on a pair of beat up jeans and a white t-shirt, Stiles made use of the gifts Allison had given her. The leather jacket and combat boots fit nicely on her body, even with the slight changes. She was grateful for the gifts, more than she could say. It was like they fit the variations in her mood and personality, something only Allison saw.

Even though she was still not brave enough to talk to her, Stiles hoped Allison would see her and understand that she would try.

By the time Stiles left the house, her father was gone and she was feeling numb again. She pushed herself to the jeep though, defiant at the mere thought that her life had to change because of her loss. She scolded herself over and over, reminding her that she should be better than this. She had to be if she wanted to continue to live.

Though she had taken her time driving, Stiles managed to arrive with time to spare. She thought about staying in her jeep until it was time but then the fear of seeing them like she had the first time crossed her mind. The next thing she knew, she was hopping out of her jeep, letting her booted feet carry her toward the front entrance. Her bag, heavy with completed missed work, was lazily slung across her shoulder and her keys were stuffed into her right pocket.

The entire walk consisted of Stiles keeping her head down and her eyes on the pavement. She ignored the looks she received from others but she wondered what they were for. Would it be because she had dropped off the planet for a week? Or because she was away from what had been known as her groupies? It might have been because she was silent. Anything was possible with a bunch of teenagers.

“Stiles honey! Welcome back, we missed you,” the receptionist murmured as she stepped into the office. For the first time Stiles looked up to meet her gaze. She faked a smile for the lady who had doted on her for years.

“Hi,” she responded softly. She pulled the note her father had given her the night before from her back pocket and handed it over. “Thanks for getting my work together on Friday. That helped a lot. I would have been overwhelmed if I didn’t get it before.”

“Nonsense cutie,” she said, flicking her hand dismissively. “We’d do anything for you. Even so, I know you would have been alright when you came back. You’re a smart girl, Stiles; don’t doubt that, ever.”

Stiles nodded, appreciative of the compliment. It made her feel a little bit better after feeling down for such a long time. She repeated her thanks and left the office with her excuse note in hand.

On her way to her locker, the inevitable happened. The hairs on the back of her neck stood as she felt several gazes on her. Unable to help herself, Stiles tilted her head and looked. She found Isaac, Scott, and Erica standing at the end of the hallway, staring at her with gut-wrenching gazes that broke her heart all over again. She flinched but ended up looking at the end of the hall. Allison and Lydia mimicked the first two.

Allison smiled softly. She nodded once at Stiles’ unresponsive form. She understood. For that, she was even more grateful of the hunter.

Ignoring them once again, Stiles inhaled strongly and forced herself to keep going. She sprang for her locker and exchanged her materials for what she needed and what she didn’t need. It was quick, like yanking off a Band-Aid. She didn’t wait around like she normally did, which was smart because Isaac looked like he was two seconds away from pouncing on her.

With no more time to waste, she scurried to her first period without another look.


The day had been uneventful when lunch came around for the Hale Pack. Each of them had their fair share of morning classes with Stiles. Every period she was in, the wolves found that the seating charts had been changed and Stiles was as farthest away from them as the classroom allowed. In the ones that didn’t have a teacher-assigned arrangement, Stiles managed to get there early enough and corner herself with nerds.

If that wasn’t obvious enough, Stiles had skipped the cafeteria altogether and spent her time elsewhere.

It had been bad last week, knowing Stiles was out of school because of them, but this was an all-new low. To have the one person they were dependent on ignore them with a fiery passion was worse than having their bones smashed repeatedly. It was sort of like they were feeling the pain they had inflicted on Stiles.

When Isaac had complained about missing his anchor after only one period, the only one who answered him was Allison and she was none too gentle. “You brought this on yourself Lahey; live with it,” she had snapped and stormed off, leaving the others staring in shock.

Now they were together at their usual table, sans Allison, poking and playing with their food. No one had an appetite but that was to be expected.

“We really did hurt her, didn’t we?” Cora whispered, spearing an apple slice with her fork. She glared at it with a newfound hatred for herself while the others nodded in agreement. “Is she honestly done with us though? I mean, did we permanently screw this up?”

“Peter said only time will tell,” Lydia explained, her soprano voice tired like her eyes. She ran a hand through her unusually messy hair. Her appearance resembled the others’, shabby and unkempt. They had given up trying to look good after Stiles’ first attempt for school. They didn’t see the point since their only target to impress was Stilinski.

“It’s been over a week and she can’t even look at us without feeling depressed or pissed,” Jackson hissed. “Why would you even take advice from that crazy bastard, anyway?”

“Because he knows what Stiles is going through!” Cora growled in defense of her uncle. “You forget that he lost a pack as well, Whittemore. He understands some of the pain Stiles feels right now.

“Besides Jackson, would you want to look at any of us if we pulled the shit we did to Stiles on you?”

Jackson couldn’t answer without sounding like a hypocrite. He was ashamed of his reaction but his excuse was the same as theirs – he missed his pack mother too much.

“How are we going to go about fixing this?” Erica asked as she pushed her tray away. “We can’t let this go on. Stiles is hurting and it’s our fault so we shouldn’t let Alpha Dearest do it for us.”

The pack was quiet as they thought about different ways to handle the situation. When one of them came close, they would open their mouth but before the words could leave their lips, they would find some kind of fault in the plan and stop. Some of their ideas had been pretty good, like Lydia’s idea of finding a way to get Stiles to Comic-Con in San Diego or Jackson’s idea about getting his adoptive parents to pull some strings and get her tickets for a prescreening to the sequel of Man of Steel. Both fell through because both events were too far away and by the time they came around, Stiles would have probably already left college, never to be seen or heard from again in Beacon Hills.

Then there were the bad ideas from both Scott and Isaac. They were thinking along the lines of tricking her into coming to a surprise makeup birthday party but when they thought about how Stiles would take it, the idea was immediately shut down. When they truly thought about it, they knew it would hurt Stiles even more. To her, it would be a slap in the face.

“Spring Break is coming up next month. That’s an entire week off for us to prove it to her that she is pack and that the rest of us are morons. Maybe each day we could leave her something at the house, something that would be meaningful to her. That’s what Allison has tried,” Boyd suggested.

“First off, as good as that sounds, Derek’s been guarding her house like he’s the fucking military. We can’t get within a mile without him knowing and you all know what would happen if he knew we were going against his orders. I personally would prefer to apologize to Stiles one day before my brother uses my windpipe as a ribbon,” Cora said brashly. “Secondly, what do you mean ‘that’s what Allison has tried’? Has she talked to Stiles?”

Boyd looked at Isaac to explain since he was the one who mentioned it first. The puppy sighed and turned to his Alpha’s sister. “When I was finally allowed to come back, I overheard Derek and Peter talking about how Argent went after Derek when Allison told him what happened. He explained what we did and Chris told him that Allison was going to try and get through to Stiles since she’s the most innocent in all of this. They decided to give Stiles birthday presents and Chris dropped them off when he told the Sheriff that she was and always will be family to them.”

“That’s probably why Allison broke up with you, Scott,” Lydia murmured. “Besides being pissed, that is. She’s actually trying to work with this. Was she given the leather jacket and boots she had on today? They looked new to me. ”

Isaac nodded. “Yep, they were new and I could smell Allison’s scent on her in first period. So, yeah I guess so.”

Erica sighed and cupped her face in between her palms. “She’s trying to give Stiles a new start. Why the hell didn’t we think about that?”

“Well, we are the idiots who messed up in the first place so is it really surprising to you that we thought of a brilliant idea too late?” Jackson muttered bitterly. “But why Allison? Is she really such a better person than the rest of us?”

Scott glared over at Jackson, trying to restrain himself from wolfing out and clawing his model-esque face. Before he could snap at him, Isaac answered after patting his friend’s arm gently.

“I honestly don’t think Allison knew what we were doing. That what Derek said and I agree with him. When I think about the time any of us were teasing Stiles, Allison was never nearby. Stiles never talked about it either… it’s not much of a surprise she was clueless since Derek and Peter were too,” he explained carefully. “And then factor in that neither Scott nor Lydia mentioned it was her birthday or the day her mother died.”

Scott and the banshee flinched at his little reminder, knowing that they had screwed up royally for forgetting something so important.

“So Allison has talked to Stiles? They’re friends again?”

“I don’t think so,” Isaac answered. His gaze was casted downward as he recalled his morning classes. “Stiles avoided her just as much as she did with the rest of us. But when we saw her this morning, she actually looked at Allison and Allison smiled. Considering Stiles didn’t scream, have a panic attack, or flip shit, I guess that means there’s a little bit of progress.”

“Maybe that’s a start.”

“Or another ‘fuck you werewolves’ since the Argents are technically still hunters. Either way, we’ll have to think of something. This can’t go on, especially when Derek will just continue to hate all of us until he gets his mate back.”

A collective groan sounded as they thought about the revelation they had from their Alpha. Scott still wasn’t over the fact that Derek had known Stiles was his mate, refused to tell her, and for a year and half practically abused her. The others understood how Derek had treated her though, especially Cora and Peter. Derek had blocked out love because of the choice of women he had through his life – all three were dead and two of them had been serial killers who tried to destroy his life. They knew he had been scared to let the boisterous teenager in because of fear of what would happen. It was reasonable, even expected that Derek would shut Stiles out.

All of that changed though when his moronic pups decided to fuck with her, therefore forcing Stilinski to leave the pack. That was the last straw for him because he refused to leave her behind.

“Guys,” Scott murmured, disrupting their thoughts about how nice it would have been for Stiles to actually be their ‘pack mother’. “What are we going to do about practice?”


Because Stiles had the same question, she was in Coach Finstock’s office before anyone could reach her. The coach had been surprised to see her back and was surprisingly nice to her. Maybe he knows, Stiles thought as she waited for him to finish answering an email; Maybe he pities me. That’s just fucking great.

“Stilinski, it’s about time you got your ass back in here,” he finally said with a smirk. “What can I do for you, princess?”

Shuddering at the term of endearment from her verbally abusive coach, she shook her head and spoke. “I’m going to need some time off from the team, Coach. I’ve been going through… some personal problems and it’s sort of hard to handle.”

Coach had the decency to be shocked instead of sarcastically mean. “What do you mean?” he questioned, standing up from his desk. He looked around her and saw that most of the team had frozen in their spots and was staring into the office. That included three distraught werewolves. Frowning, Coach went around and slammed the door in their faces and closed the blinds. Stiles was silently thankful for his actions, even though she knew the three she was avoiding could still hear her.

“I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to, Stiles, but you can talk to me,” Coach continued. “What’s going on? What’s holding you back from the team? Is it drugs? Boy problems? Are you sick?”

Stiles resisted the urge to laugh at his suggestions. “No coach,” she answered quietly. “Just some friend trouble and if I’m playing, it could complicate things. I don’t want to mess with the team’s chances so I thought maybe I could not play for a bit.”

Coach sighed and returned to his desk. “And just when you were getting good, Stilinski; I was guessing you would be one of my star players this season. Does this involve McCall, Lahey, and Whittemore?”

Stiles nodded. “Possibly Danny as well, if Jackson got him involved. I’m not sure though.”

Coach nodded and gestured for her to sit in one of the beat up chairs he had probably collected from the trash. Stiles did and waited for his response. “You know, I can’t let you out of practices without completely dismissing you from the team without appropriate cause. What I can do is bench you until you are ready to play again but you’ll still have to come to practices. I won’t make you do anything on the field…you could stay up in the bleachers or work in the weight room. Would that be alright to work with until this blows over?”

Stiles wasn’t sure it would blow over but she hoped there would be a point in the future where she could accept what happened and moved on. She nodded to his terms. “I can work with that. I’m really sorry about this, Coach. I was excited to play but I just can’t right now.”

“I understand, Stilinski. I’m glad you were able to talk to me about this as well. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to be kept updated so I know everything is okay with you. If they give you any problems, let me know. I don’t care whether they are my top players or not. Any harassment is inexcusable.”

“Sure thing, Coach,” Stiles murmured. She stood up and let him open the door for her before she left the office. She avoided the looks she knew she was getting from the wolves and went straight to the door. Unfortunately, keeping her head down meant she didn’t see the person entering the boys’ locker room. Stumbling backward, she looked up to see who had the grace to run into her.

“Greenburg,” she muttered in disgust. She thought she did good for covering up her shock. In front of her wasn’t the same disturbing, awkward nut that she had known since elementary school. Instead a man who gave Jackson a run for his money stared down at her with a strange but confident smirk. His hair combed out for once and his thick glasses missing for the first time in forever, Stiles could easily see the exact shade of his blue eyes and his clear skin. If that wasn’t shocking enough, he was dressed like a punk – ripped jeans, ratty white t-shirt, scuffed up boots, and a similar leather jacket.

Stiles wanted to puke. They matched outfits. She matched Greenburg.

“Stilinski! Looking good, cupcake,” he said playfully. Stiles couldn’t help it this time. She gaped like little Nemo, her lips parted with a perfect rounded circumference. Even the dipshit’s voice was smoother.

“Really? I thought I looked like shit today,” she retorted and pushed her way past him to go back to the girls’ locker room. She could feel his eyes watching her leave and refused the urge to flip him off.

Only Greenburg would think he’s hot shit after a bunch of freaks gave him a makeover.


The whole time during practice, Stiles stayed up on the bleachers and did her homework. She had her IPod blasting, keeping her distracted from the suicide runs going on in front of her but she could still feel eyes watching her. The one time she gave in and looked up from her Calculus assignment, she found not only the wolves watching her but also Greenburg.

And he still had that crazy ass smile.

When Coach called it a night, Stiles stuffed her books back into the bag and bounded off the bleachers, her boots clanging against the metal loudly. She mock saluted Finstock before ignoring the questioning players and going straight for her jeep. The drive home was quick for her and when she saw that her father was gone for his night shift, she ignored the note about money for dinner and went straight to bed.

She was still unaware of the wolf that kept her safe at night.


The day was a repeat with slight improvement. She was getting better at blocking out the wolves during her classes and focusing more. She worked more diligently and her teachers took notice of her improvement, even though it concerned them that she was a lot more quiet than usual.

Stiles also ate her lunch in the library again with the permission of the teacher on duty. She worked on her English essay and by the time the bell rung, she was almost finished. It shocked Stiles that she only had her conclusion to do and then edit it because she had only been given the assignment the day before and it wasn’t due for another two weeks. Stiles wasn’t complaining though.

So her day was getting better. Depressing still, yes, but it was manageable. She could work with this, she told herself repeatedly.

All that went down the drain when she decided to get changed and work in the weight room for practice since she didn’t have any homework. It was her luck to run into Greenburg when she only wore a sports bra and basketball shorts.

She wasn’t surprised as much as she was grossed out that he leered at her.

“What do you want, Greenburg?” she asked, her voice tired and annoyed as she stared at him. He was blocking her entrance into the major equipment and it was pissing her off.

“A kiss might do,” he responded with what he probably thought was a sensual smile. Stiles snorted at his pathetic attitude.

“Go find a hooker; if you pay enough, you may find someone willing to try,” she said and tried to push past him. It was like trying to push a wall. He refused to budge, making Stiles even angrier. “Move it, Greenburg.”

“Hear me out first, Stilinski,” he said, raising his hand to stop her. “Rumor’s going around that you and the three musketeers are done for. The whole team is blaming them for you not starting this season and they’ve all noticed how you’ve gone from being a spaz to full loner. It’s weird as hell for them.”

“You’re point being? It’s none of their business, nor is it yours,” she snapped. Greenburg laughed and leaned against the door.

“No, it’s not but I’m offering a truce. A friendship, if you will. You aren’t the type of person to end up being alone,” he mended. Saying her eyebrows rose would be the understatement of the year.

“You’re kidding, right?” Stiles asked and chuckled. “No thanks, Greenburg. Just because you’ve found some balls doesn’t mean I’m interested in being your gal-pal. Now move it or I’ll chop those new suckers off and leave you with a voice higher than mine.”

Greenburg let her past this time and left the weight room, laughing at her spunk. An idea involving some of the weights and his head crossed Stiles’ mind but she pushed it away and decided to take her anger out of a punching bag. It helped ease the pain in her knuckles by imagining his ugly face on the red cover.


A day later, Derek and Peter met up with Allison at the diner to talk about Stiles. Derek had explained that she was still unaware of his actions and his presence at night but that she was sleeping better. They all had sighed in relief for that. Stiles without sleep meant she would be abusing the Adderall to keep her body from crashing.

“Has she talked to you, though?” Peter questioned as he leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Any progress since your dad stopped by and dropped the presents off?”

Allison shook her head as she sipped her coffee. “No; she wears them every day but hasn’t said a word to me. She’s not avoiding me like the others though, and she definitely isn’t as tense. If she looks at me, it’s a blank expression. There’s no trace of anger or sadness. I asked Isaac yesterday if he smelled anything from her but he said it was only when she looked at the others, especially him and Scott.”

Derek nodded. That was progress; not much, but enough to work with. “Do you think she knows I’ve been watching?”

“No, not unless the sheriff told her; I doubt it though. He’s been careful with what he’s been saying around her. She still reacts badly if anyone from the pack is mentioned. When he talked to my dad on Monday though, he said that she just kind of stares out of her window when she’s in her room. As if she’s waiting for something… Maybe she’s hoping you’ll sneak in.”

Peter pondered the idea and shrugged. “Or she’s suspicious of the Betas since they haven’t tried to interact with her yet,” he said, squashing Derek’s drop of hope.

“That’s possible… likely even, but the way the sheriff spoke, it sounded like she misses you both.”

“But with us comes the pack,” Derek muttered bitterly. Allison nodded in agreement.

“Exactly, and she’s done everything in school to distant herself from us. She doesn’t step foot in the cafeteria, she only goes to her locker during the morning, at lunch, and at the end of the day, she moved seats in every class, and she’s benched for some time of the lacrosse season.”

That peaked Derek’s interest. “She’s not playing?” he questioned. He remembered how excited she had been because of all the practicing she had done before school started. That idiotic coach had even said she could be first string if she continued her work.

“Nope and the whole team knows the boys are at fault. That’s not even the weirdest thing though,” Allison answered. “A lot of people have been seeing her with Greenburg. Granted, they said she blows him off each time but just the fact that he’s talking to her is something gossip worthy.”

“Greenburg,” Peter said curiously, hesitating before he continued. “Wasn’t that the kid who was missing for over a week?”

Derek nodded, remembering the alert on the local news. He had recognized the name from when Stiles complained about him being freaky before. To hear of him talking to Stiles was stranger than strange. She hated that kid’s guts. “What’s he been saying to her? She still hates him though?”

Allison chuckled. “More than before, I think. Every time he’s near her, she gets this expression that screams repulsion. From what’s going around, he’s trying to get with her… I think he’s noticed that she’s alone now, like he’s always been, and he’s trying to take advantage of it.”

While Derek growled at the thought of some dick trying to take his mate, Peter asked, “Are you sure she’s not letting him in?”

“Peter, every time he opens her mouth, she looks like she’s two steps away from wrapping her hands around his neck and strangling him to death. She still hates his guts and the fact that he’s trying to be smooth with her isn’t helping his case. She hates that fake crap and wants nothing to do with it. I’m actually surprised she hasn’t knocked him on his ass yet or kneed him in the balls. It’s more than obvious that she wants too.”

There was no possible way that Derek could stop the smug smile that crossed his lips. He was glad his girl could hold her ground. Of course she could – this was Stiles they were talking about.

He just wished he could be there to do it for her.


Chapter Text


The day that she decided to revert back to her baggy tee and over shirt ways turned about to be the last straw for Stiles. All week she had put up with Greenburg’s shady innuendos, creepy appearances, and terrible pickup lines, and she was done with it. She had had it up to her neck with his gross sense of humor and awkward touches.

Friday was crossing a line and she wanted it to stop now.

“Stiles, Stiles, Stiles,” he purred as he sidled up to her locker. He leaned back against it like some player stalking his prey. “You’ve been ignoring me too long, pretty girl. The sexual tension is killing me.”

“Then why aren’t you dead yet?” she asked in a mutter as she exchanged her binders and textbooks for homework on the bleachers. “Go away before I smash your face into the lockers. Or the floor. Either will do.”

Greenburg chuckled and tilted his body toward her. He never lost that pompous expression and it was really starting to aggravate her to the point of struggling to control her hands from latching onto his hair and following through with her idea. “Still haven’t gotten tired of threatening me yet, sweetheart? Why not just give in? It might annoy you less if you gave me a chance, Stilinski.”

“In only a week, you’ve gone from pestering me about being friends to offering sex with no strings. What have I done in a past life to deserve you thinking that I want to fuck you, asswipe?”

“You got rid of the brat squad and starting being the badass you were meant to be,” he answered, smiling lazily. It was times like these that Stiles wished she had taken the pepper spray her father offered her when she told him about the supernatural.

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Now stop tormenting me with your horniness, I’m not interested in you or your small ass dick,” she said, rolling her eyes at his choice of words. She was going to have nightmares for weeks if he kept this up. Sex with Greenburg sounded worse than a life without curly fries. It was that bad

Luckily Stiles had pulled her hand back just in time for the locker door to miss her fingers by millimeters. She started to growl and curse at him but stopped when she turned and saw him inches from her face. His nonsense expression was gone, replaced by a pissed off demeanor that nearly scared the shit out of her. He leaned down, his lips next to her ear.

“Do you really think you can still talk all that shit without the backup of your wolves, Stilinski?” When Stiles’ eyes went wide, Greenburg laughed and slid closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist to tug her closer. She couldn’t fight him back, even though her mind shouted for her to knee him in the balls or smash his nose into his brain. “Yep, your wolves, Stiles; did you honestly think no one knew about your little pack? Or well, what used to be yours.

“Did they get tired of you? Did they decide to send you off after finding a better pack whore? Or did that Alpha you’re so much in love with fuck you over and then drop you when he was finished?”

 Stiles growled, shrugging him off roughly before she shoved him into the locker. “You fucking pervert,” she snarled. She took one of her books out of the bag, thankfully a heavy calculus book, and smacked the hell out of him.

Unfortunately, along with Greenburg’s new appearance came with a set of muscles. He grabbed her wrist on the third try and pushed her back, pinning her against her locker. She squirmed against him, cursing a blue streak as he kept her trapped with his knee between her legs and his other hand pushing into her shoulder. She dropped her book from the pressure he created on her wrist and tried to keep fighting but Greenburg was too, too strong.

Like werewolf strong.

“Stiles, stop being a bitch. You’re only going to hurt yourself if you keep trying to fight me,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck with his nose. Stiles went limp, knowing his words weren’t a lie. By the way he held her against the locker proved that he could most likely snap her into Reese’s Pieces: Stiles edition.

“Then get the fuck off me, Greenburg,” she hissed, “Or I’ll–”

Greenburg laughed and lifted his head to look at her. She could see the humor sparkle bright in his eyes. “Or you’ll what? Call you’re wolves in? They aren’t going to show up for you, Stilinski. They let you go, let you leave the pack. Why? Because you’re shit to them. You are absolutely nothing but a worker, only used when needed and then tossed to the side. Don’t you think they would have been here before now if they cared you were in trouble? They would have known something was wrong yet, what do you know? The hall is empty.”

Stiles ignored the tightness in her chest at the reminder. She felt everything Greenburg said – had tried to push those feelings away since she came back. She had managed to keep them locked away, until now, that is. His words made the anxiety come back. She could feel the panic attack looming, waiting to break free. Being stubborn though, she wouldn’t let him win. So she did what she did best in her life. She narrowed her eyes as she looked up at him and was a loud as her lungs could handle.

Greenburg dropped her like a hot pocket and covered his ears from the pain of hearing her shrill scream. He doubled over a foot away from her as she leaned against the locker flaccidly, concentrating on her voice until someone came. Someone had to have heard her, considering she had worked on getting it to be a lurid and long as Lydia’s. Even Derek had admitted it was impressive when she had shown him months ago. He even said that if he hadn’t known it was her, he would have guessed she was a banshee.

Stiles never forgot that one simple compliment from the Alpha.

She only stopped screaming when Finstock and the rest of the lacrosse team appeared at the end of the hall, some of them midway through getting dressed. Stiles noted that all three wolves were there, their eyes flashing their appropriate colors. She tried not to look at them because of what Greenburg had said.

She inhaled sharply, trying to catch her breath as she leaned her head against the locker. Greenburg, who was back to his intimidating stance, glared at her with such hatred that she had to look away. Moving her gaze to Coach, she swallowed heavily and spoke in a raspy and harsh voice.

“I want off the team. Completely.”


The whole team gathered in the locker room outside of Finstock’s office, trying to listen in on the conversation. Isaac and Scott were at the front, waiting to hear every word that came out of Stiles’ mouth, while Jackson, Danny, and a few of the other players had Greenburg backed into a corner, making sure he didn’t move a muscle.

It didn’t help Jackson’s temper that Greenburg looked more bored than afraid of him.

“I want off the team,” Stiles repeated once they were both settled on in the office. Scott could hear them shuffle around while Isaac whimpered. Practice was the only time he could really see her without having her turn away. In class, she was far from him while in practice, she was usually accessible somehow.

“What the hell did Greenburg do?”

“Aside from the fact that he’s been harassing and seemingly stalking me since I came back? I’ve been propositioned for sex, insulted about my lack of friends and my romantic interests, and pinned against a locker, Coach. Most of that happens when I’m either on my way to practice, during it, or just leaving. I’m sick of it and if leaving the team means I’ll get that pervert off my back, I’ll do it.”

Scott inhaled deeply to control himself when he listened to Stiles list Greenburg’s crimes. He looked at Isaac, who was more in a furious shock than anything, before glancing at Jackson. Danny was whispering to his friend but Scott knew all too well what was going to happen by the way his pack mate shook. Telling Isaac to wait there, he went over and tried to calm Jackson, even though being so close to Greenburg made him just as angry. Thankfully he could still hear well from their standpoint.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone that Greenburg was sexually harassing you, Stilinski? Didn’t you think it would be a good idea to actually open your mouth and say something?”

Isaac wanted to hit Finstock for questioning her motives but he knew Stiles could handle her own ground. That thought was reassured when Stiles fired back, telling him that the sexual harassment only started the day before. For a second after she finished speaking, Isaac thought that Scott was going to literally rip Greenburg’s nuts off and force feed them to him. The Beta knew that he wasn’t above it, nor was he against having Jackson hold him down the entire time.

“Greenburg…” Coach repeated grimly. “Greenburg isn’t capable of such things. His brain can only handle annoyingly idiotic phrases. Not even full sentences, Stilinski – only phrases.”

“Do you consider asking me to ride him annoyingly idiotic, Coach? Is getting a good fuck in the boys’ showers only a harmless phrase? Is that all his words are?” she demanded to know. This time Isaac had to leave his post at the door to drag both Scott and Jackson back over before they turned Greenburg inside out. Letting Danny and the others watch them, he forced the two shaking wolves to stay at his sides.

They could almost feel the blood rush to his cheeks. Had it not been for the whole situation that brought it on, all three of them would have been rolling. It was always Coach embarrassing his players, not the other way around. Then again, maybe that was the only way that Stiles could get her point across.

Still, it was a Kodak worthy moment.

“Because of this, you want off the team.”

“If that’s what gets him away from me, then yes. I want off the team completely.”

"And if that doesn’t work?” The disbelief in Finstock’s voice was amusing, like he knew Stiles wouldn’t be able to stay away. She might have been on a temporary break but she loved lacrosse too much. No way was she going to back out on the final season of her senior year, especially when she was so much better than before.

“Then I’ll run him over with my jeep, Coach, I don’t know! Maybe I’ll get my dad to arrest him or something. I just can’t take the harassment anymore because if he keeps it up, I’ll end up getting myself into trouble. I really don’t want to end the year with a suspension because I beat the crap out of him, you know? And really, it would make you kick me off the team anyways and I really doubt you want to do that because I know for a fact that I am way better than Greenburg. I could make him look like a little girl out on the field.”

Isaac snickered at the thought of Stiles nearly mauling Greenburg. It wasn’t hard to imagine.

“Alright, alright, I’ll handle it. You aren’t getting off the team though. I won’t let that happen, even if it spares me all the paperwork for this. we’ll handle it on Monday but I still want you at practice tonight. Do you understand?” Coach asked. Stiles started to protest but Finstock wouldn’t have it.  “No, you’re still going, whether I have to force you to or not. Now, I want you to go to the nurse and get yourself checked out. Tell her you slipped in the locker room for now and I’ll handle the rest later.”

Stiles sighed and said she would. Before any of the guys could move, including the wolves, the door flew open, revealing a still semi-furious Stilinski. She stared incredulously at her teammates but refused to look at all three wolves. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and pushed her way through the mass of guys, managing to stay as far away as possible from Greenburg.

As soon as she was out of the locker room, Coach opened his mouth. “Parker, make sure she gets there and doesn’t leave. When the nurse is done, get her to the field,” he said, dismissing one of the sophomores before turning to the rest of his team.

He glared at Greenburg for a minute, who, unfortunately for him, had the balls to look bored still, before he addressed the others. “It looks like I’ll be doing paperwork until my ass falls off. Whittemore, McCall: you two are in charge of practice. Make sure everyone gets a good workout, will you? Don’t annoy me unless someone needs to go to the emergency room.”

He went back into his office, slamming the door shut. Everyone turned to stare at Greenburg, the glares harsh and cruel. The wolves were the worst and Greenburg could see the plans forming in their eyes.

Even he knew to look a bit scared now.


“Look I know you had an order from Coach to be my babysitter and everything but shit Parker, give me some breathing room,” Stiles snapped as they walked out of the building to head to the fields. Parker, talking about how it was impressive that she was the only female on the team at over a hundred miles per minute, barely left inches between their bodies as he stuck to her side, his eyes trained on her the entire time.

For more reasons than the nonstop talking, Parker reminded her of herself when she was a sophomore. He was awkward and goofy, jittery and sort of short for his age, though way taller than her. It was like he was the male version of Stiles, born two years late. Her mini doppelganger: Stiles 2.0. She had seen him around at school a few times and laughed to herself about his apparel – an under-evolved version of her closet. He even had the batman t-shirts she used to have.

She wondered if he had a best friend that was bitten by a werewolf after going onto the Hale property. She made a mental note to compose a list of tips for him.

“I’ve heard how sneaky and cunning you are. Coach said that I had to make sure you didn’t leave so I’m doing that. I don’t want to get kicked off the team.”

Stiles laughed and looked up at Parker. He even looked like her: brown, messy hair; honey brown eyes; pale skin and skinny bones. He even had the moles. “Aren’t you a bench warmer, kid?”

The blush that lit up his face was priceless. If a puppy eyed, curly haired boy attached himself to Parker’s side, she would swear she was watching herself in an alternate universe. That would make a good story, she thought randomly.

“I’m going to play. One of these days, I’m going to play. I don’t plan on being a bench warmer for my whole high school career.”

Stiles chuckled.  Way past the point of strange, this was about to jump into a sea of freaky. Having a new respect for the kid, she grinned, reached up, and ruffled his hair, making Parker blush even more. “Okay, mini-me… or larger-me; since I swear to God you are repeating my history, I’ll make you a deal. If you sit with me up in the bleachers and tell me about yourself, not only will I willingly go to practice with you now and not try to escape but I’ll help you get better for the team. How’s that sound?”

His eyes went huge, probably mimicking her own appearance when she was doped up on her meds.  “You would seriously help me?”

Stiles shrugged. “Well sure! I’m not the best; I mean, a lot of the guys are fantastic players but I’ve got a leg up on some of them so it works.”

They shook hands on the deal. It was probably a funny site to see – a slightly bruised Stiles and a gawky, over excited Parker in the midst of creating an awesome handshake. Stiles felt a pang of longing in her chest at the entire act. It reminded her with Scott when they were younger.

No, she told herself as she wrapped her arm around Parker’s shoulders when they reached the fields. That’s the past. This is your life now. You chose this when you left them. Suck it up, Stilinski.

Parker didn’t seem to mind the new affection. In fact, he embraced it by wrapping his arm around her waist. The whole action created Déjà vu for Stiles. She had to keep repeating to herself that Parker was not Scott. He was not her ex-best friend for most of her entire life. He was not the werewolf that changed and fucked up her life in less than two years.

Parker was a human – a plain, ordinary, nothing-special human. She preferred that now.

As they made their way up the bleachers, Stiles ignored the team staring at her but noted that Coach was nowhere to be found. She looked back at Parker questionably but the kid said nothing and shrugged. Apparently, he wasn’t let in on the plan either.

While Stiles worked on her homework, she listened him talk nonstop. It was kind of nice to not be the one filling the silence, especially when she got the one-oh-one on her new friend. She learned that he lived with both his parents on the outskirts of town and that Parker was a nickname for a Russian name his mother picked out. Stiles chuckled at that, knowing exactly how that went.

“It’s not funny!” Parker snapped with a scandalized look. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a first name that you can’t even pronounce!”

Though it was unhelpful and Stiles felt bad for making him feel like shit, she couldn’t stop herself from laughing harder. It got to the point where she couldn’t breathe and Parker looked so offended that he started to leave her on the bleachers. Trying to stop him, she yanked him back down by his hand and pulled him up against her side.          

“Relax, kid,” she wheezed when she regained control over herself, though still chuckling breathlessly. “I actually do know how much of a pain in the ass that is so chill.”

Parker narrowed his eyes at her as he looked her over. As he caught on to her words, his eyes got a little bit bigger with surprise. “You’re name isn’t actually Stiles?”

She stopped herself from going into another fit. “You honestly think my parents named me ‘Stiles Stilinski’, Parker? They were crazy back then but not cruel,” she answered and proceeded to tell him her Greek name the best she could. It was definitely hard; way too many syllables than her American mouth could handle at once but she managed to get it out. “Apparently I was named after a great grandmother or something. I don’t know. I just know that by kindergarten, I put my tiny foot down and said enough was enough. Where the hell I got Stiles though is beyond my imagination. Guess I thought I was some fashion guru in the making.”

Whatever Stiles said right gave Parker solace in not being the only weird-ass freak in Beacon Hills. She was happy though she could provide that to someone, even if in no way was it a positive reassurance that they weren’t freaks at all. She was just glad that he didn’t clam up on her. If anything, he talked more.

Within a half an hour, Stiles learned that Parker hadn’t actually turned sixteen, he had an older brother in college that was just as cuddly as he claimed Stiles to be, and he has wanted to play for the lacrosse team since he saw his brother’s first game years ago. He also wanted to be a chemist and work for one of the large pharmaceuticals that ruin everyone’s lives. Stiles found that she couldn’t really keep her comments to herself and explained why she blamed them for her dependency on her medication.

“Stiles, look!” he hissed, interrupting her and pointing down at the field. She didn’t want to but she was glad she did. Right as her eyes hit the green grass, she witnessed not one, but three werewolves body slam Greenburg into the ground while the rest of the team turned their heads away. The way their sticks and bodies collided sounded like a cheer squad hyped up on Red Bull in Stiles ears. It got even better when she saw the wolves move and Greenburg roll over, clutching his stomach in pain.

Supernatural or not, Greenburg didn’t stand a chance.

“Damn,” Parker murmured, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and chin cupped in his hands. “Those guys look like a bunch of twigs yet that fucker looks like he got a brick wall dropped on him.”

“Looks are deceiving,” Stiles muttered as she turned back to her homework, trying to keep the smug look off her face. Mentally, she was doing a happy dance and praying that they managed to get his nuts crushed in the whole mess.

Stiles was not at all thinking nicely about those three assholes. She did not mentally thank them for what they did.

Nope, not at all. 


“Do you need a ride home?” Stiles asked Parker as they climbed down the bleachers.

“I wouldn’t want to take you out of your way,” he answered sheepishly. “I can wait for my dad, it’s fine anyway because he’ll be here in a bit.”

“I’m calling bullshit,” she said, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him to a stop. Either Stiles was stronger than she thought or Parker let the short girl manhandle him without protest. “You’re tone says differently. I’m driving you home. Maybe we’ll stop and get something to eat because I don’t know about you but I’m starving. I’ll wait by my car while you get changed; I’m in the blue jeep.”

Parker grabbed her wrist and pulled her to a stop, much to her dismay. He’s hiding muscles under those clothes, Stiles thought as she let herself be turned around. “What about Greenburg? He’ll be pissed… you know those three slammed him for you.”

Stiles chuckled and patted his cheek, making him blush even more. “I have some tricks up my sleeve, honey. I’ll be okay. Just hurry a bit. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was starving.”

Still hesitant, Parker nodded and ran off with the rest of the team. She waited a second until her new buddy was out of site before making a quick dash to the old, battered jeep. She dropped her stuff in the window before going straight for the back and pulling out what she needed. If her theory was correct, then this should work and she would be safe.

The pouch was big, enough to hold at least two pounds of what she referred to as her staple item. The gray dust poured in a steady stream when she stepped a foot from her vehicle and tipped the bag. Walking around hurriedly, she stayed focused and determined, her only goal being to keep that slimebag away from her.

Luckily, she finished just in time. The minute the ring connected around her jeep, Greenburg appeared out of nowhere. When Stiles looked up at his face, separated by inches of air and an invisible shield, she could see just how truthful Parker’s words were. Being pissed was an understatement, a completely lie. The minimum that Stiles could say about describing his fury was that he wanted to kill her. Turn her into mulch, use her arteries as red tinsel on a Christmas tree, paint the sidewalk with her blood type of murder.

She imagined he was the type to be creative.

“You stupid little bitch,” he hissed. He tried to step forward but was thrown off by the Mountain Ash, earning a mix between a hiss and a growl. “You think telling that idiotic coach is going to make this all stop? That you’re little wolves can protect you?”

“First of all dickwad,” she murmured, stepping as close as possible to the line as she could without passing through; “You said so yourself earlier. Those wolves want nothing to do with me. They probably kicked the shit out of you for all of your comments about them and their alpha. Secondly, I know it will because Finstock doesn’t like you. Never has, never will; he’d do anything to get you off his team as legally as possible. Add in that the moment I see my father is the moment that you’ll have a warrant over your head for harassment.”

Greenburg had the nerve enough to laugh. “You think human law is going to hold me back, Stilinski?”

“Maybe not but it will deter you. Until it can’t anymore, I’ll have enough time to protect myself from whatever the hell you are,” she muttered. “Those punks, the ones you ran off with… what did they tell you about the bite? Did they say it would make your life better? That everything will be okay?”

He only stared at her blankly for a moment before he started to laugh. “You… you actually think I’m one of those damn mutts? Stilinski, I thought you were smarter than that. Don’t you think Hale would be on my ass for being an omega on his territory? No, baby, I’m not a fucking werewolf.”

“Then pray tell, dipshit; what the hell are you?”

“Only your worst nightmare, of course,” he answered smugly. “You’re in deep, Stilinski. You thought by breaking your alliance and turning you back on the supernatural, you would get a normal life but in reality, you made it worse for yourself. It’ll never stop for you and I just can’t wait to see how this plays out for you.”

Even though it made her scared, she refused to show it. She would wait until later, when she was at home in the safety net she had created to think over his words. “Threatening will get you nowhere.”

“Threatening implies that there is a chance it might not happen. Love, this is a promise – you’re going to get the shock of your life when you aren’t expecting it. People you care about will be in trouble and there’s nothing you can do to help them, just like you can’t help yourself. You’ll feel like you’re losing your mind when we’re done with you. Maybe you’ll be thankful for what we’ll do when the time comes. The best part for me, though? Not even that darling Alpha you love so much can save you now.”


She went through the drive-through and got something for Parker. When he had questioned her, she said her stomach was upset and that she had lost her appetite. That it was so bad, not even curly fries could cure whatever it was.

Later, after he finished eating, she gave him her number and dropped him off. She insisted he call or text her, just to make sure he was alright. She asked that if anything weird happened, that if Greenburg gave him problems because they were friends now, that he called her straight away.

Though weirded out, he promised to call her the next day.

She got home, only to be greeted by her father, who was supposed to be at work. Apparently, Finstock had called him to tell him what was happening to Stiles. The Sheriff planned to arrest him as soon as possible after taking every detail, knowledge of the supernatural left unsaid.

She made him dinner but didn’t eat. He told her about work. Her friend Tommy, the helping hand at the office, was missing. No one had seen him since Wednesday.

After he was gone, she went upstairs. The minute the cruiser pulled away, out of hearing distance, she grabbed a pillow and smashed it into her face. Screaming as loud as she could, she wished that she had never dragged Scott into the woods to find Laura Hale’s body. She wished her mother had never died and left her with no guidance, except for the bit of advice from her birthday letter.

Really, she wished she had never been born. 

Chapter Text

“Stiles, can I ask you a question?”

Though accustomed to the phrase, Stiles always became wary when Parker asked. Sure, he was a curious kid, sometimes more than she had been when she was that age, but she was scared of what the question would be.

After what had happened with Greenburg, she was paranoid. She knew it was exactly what he wanted but she couldn’t help it. Not once since he had told her…well, threatened her, actually, did Stiles stop thinking about what he could meant.

It was different this time. Over the past two years, Stiles has been threatened and some of those threats have been followed through. Only once had she had her father threatened on her behalf and from that moment on, Stiles refused to feel helpless. Now that it was happening again, that more than just her father was vulnerable, her mind was reeling. She didn’t know what to do or how to handle it.

Especially since she didn’t know what the one doing the menacing was, exactly.

“You can but I promise no answers,” she answered before taking a long sip of soda and then eating about three fries at a time. They were having dinner at the diner because his parents were working and so was the sheriff, therefore leaving them both home alone. Since Stiles actually cared about Parker now, she was sure Greenburg knew as well and she definitely didn’t like the idea of him being alone.

See? Paranoid.

Parker was hesitant as he stirred his spoon in his coffee. “Well… it’s been three weeks since you’ve been out of school. People don’t talk about it so much because they’re getting used to it but they still wonder. What happened between you, McCall, Whittemore, and Lahey?”

Not exactly what she was expecting, that was for damn sure. She was imagining more along the lines of why is Greenburg stalking me or why do I feel like someone is watching over my shoulder at everything I do? Definitely not that though. She didn’t even know people were still talking about Stiles sudden acclaim to loner-hood.

God damn, they need less time in their lives, she thought as she glared down at her food. She refused to look up when she answered him. “I don’t see how that’s anyone’s business, Parker.”

Though she was sure he felt the unintentional malice in her words, Parker ignored it and continued to press on. That was one of the traits they shared that Stiles really wished they didn’t. It just made everything harder for her when it came to her friend.

“Maybe it’s not but it’s high school. Gossip is gossip. Now what exactly happened? And don’t say nothing because I know how to tell if you are lying, which you are terrible at, by the way. Besides, the way you act around them is a dead giveaway that whatever went down wasn’t good, Stiles.”

Looking up with narrowed eyes, Stiles raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her side of the booth. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, challenging him to continue on. Naturally, she had just enough bad luck that Parker chose that moment to grow a pair and press her already pushed buttons.

“You know exactly what I mean. You won’t make eye contact with any of them. You physically avoid them by keeping yourself as far away as possible. It’s sort of creepy, hon, almost like you have a sixth sense for whenever they go near you because when they do, you automatically start to move away.  You never eat in the cafeteria with anyone else at lunch and from what the other seniors said, you got all of your seats changed so you didn’t have to sit near them. Then there’s the whole situation with Greenburg; I heard Danny talking to Michael about how you never would have handled it like that before.”

Cursing gossip nonstop mentally, Stiles wondered what she would have done before but came up short every time. She ignored the rest of it, knowing it was true and unable to deny it, and decided to ask. “What exactly did Danny say I would have done before?”

“Called Scott or the others to help; instead you let it escalate until you couldn’t handle it, and then you screamed for someone. They said you never would have done that.”          

“I’m a girl; girls scream all the time,” she muttered. Again, it was true. Had that happened a month ago, she would have called Scott or Isaac, or even Erica the moment Greenburg appeared next to her.

“I may not have known you personally until lately but even I know that is bullshit. You were the loudest kid in the school and I specifically remember a few times that you screamed. Try again, Stiles.”

“Did you ever think that maybe there just wasn’t enough time to call for anyone to help me?”

Parker had the nerve to laugh at her. She scowled at him and as soon as words started to pour from his mouth, it deepened. “Bullshit, another lie; considering the moment we heard you scream, those three were out the door before anyone could even register what was happening. I also noticed how you said, anyone instead of naming them. You haven’t said any of their names. Does it bother you to hear their names, Stiles? Scott, Jackson, and Isaac?”

Her neck snapped as she met his gaze directly. If she wasn’t guarding herself as steadily as she was then, she probably would have growled at him. Derek would approve, that tiny, annoying voice taunted behind a cloud of thoughts. She smothered it back as she glared at Parker. “Why are you doing this? If I wanted to answer questions, the whole damn school would know my life by now. What makes you any different?”

Parker knew she was trying to hurt him, all in the sake of getting him to back the hell off before something else happened. He wouldn’t let it though. Young he might be but in no way was Parker an idiot. He was smart and could be even more so in an annoyingly perfected art, one mastered by Stilinski herself. It was a side that Stiles had yet to experience at full attention but now seemed like a perfect time.

“What makes me different is that I see through that act you put on. You pretend that everything is okay, that whatever they did to you doesn’t matter anymore, when in reality, it’s tearing you apart. Am I right?” Leaning forward on the table with his elbows, he continued, knowing Stiles wouldn’t even bother to answer. “You won’t yourself heal, nor will you let yourself live. You’re letting them hold you back.”

“Despite what you may think, you don’t know me, kid,” she snarled, crossing her arms across her chest. “We’ve only been talking for a week. Last time I checked, that was not enough time to know someone’s life story.”

Parker sighed. He knew this was just Stiles’ defense mechanism – pushing people away until they stopped asking questions. He had been like that when something happened to him so he knew what she was thinking. They were just that much alike.

“I was kind of hoping that I wouldn’t need to,” he murmured. He reached forward, freezing when she flinched back, but then continued until his hand locked around her wrist. He tugged her forward, ignoring her protests until her chest was pressed against the table and their faces were separated by inches of air, filled thick with the aroma of diner food. “We’re friends. You said that much when we started talking. We’ve both realized how freakily alike we are, to the point where Coach thinks we’re the same person in different bodies. Sure, I don’t know you’re life story but I’d like to think I know when my best friend needs help.”

Stiles blinked slowly at him, her appearance sort of cat like with a flashy curiosity that told Parker he was getting through to her. “I know it hurts losing your friends. Maybe I don’t know just how bad it hurts, but I know what it feels like. I also know that it helps to talk about it. Since I’m pretty sure everybody’s right about us being so similar, I can say for sure that you probably never told anyone what really happened. If I’m right, then even you’re father doesn’t even know the real story.”

“So what; you want me to tell you what they did?” It came out as a whisper, despite the earlier aggression she tried to contain. She hated that he was right. She utterly despised it. The only one who knew the exact details between her and the pack were just that, only them. Her father knew they rejected her and that she had enough. He saw the aftermath, the self-loathing that came after finally facing the denial she had for two years straight. He just didn’t know what build up to that, other than a few details she slipped with here and there.

“I want you to trust someone, Stiles… preferably me but anyone will do.”

She thought about the pros and cons of telling Parker what happened. The pros were that someone would understand why she couldn’t heal, why she couldn’t stand to look at them. If she told him, she would have someone to talk to and cry to, instead of holding it all in and then facing it when she was alone. Then there were the cons, the problems with letting someone in. She couldn’t tell Parker a lot of the major details, like them being werewolves and what was actually causing her pain.

How was she supposed to explain to him that it wasn’t the insults or the abuse that hurt the most, but the fact that she pushed them away? How could she tell him about losing her pack, her family, all because she couldn’t handle them anymore?

It came out as carefully constructed word vomit. She avoided those details, using other descriptions to get across how important they were without mentioning the pack or their species. It just kept coming, and coming, and coming, until Stiles was crying quietly in her seat, her head buried in her hands. Sighing again, Parker got up and climbed in next to her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly against his chest. He murmured soft reassurances to her and tried to convince her that everything would be alright.

That might be, eventually. Once she left for college, she might be able to move on. Stiles would be able to get herself together if she pushed hard enough and moved far, far away from Beacon Hills. She only had a few months until that happened and she could live through that.

All she had to do was survive through whatever Greenburg was planning and keep everyone safe in the meantime.




What do you mean she was being harassed? The malice in that simple question was enough to put fear into Allison’s eyes. It had been a little over a year since she had last felt threatened by Derek – which had been well deserved, since she did try to kill his pack out of untrue spite – so it was completely reminiscent to experience that again. It turns out she really didn’t miss the grumpy Alpha after all.

“I thought you would have heard it from Scott or the rest of the pack,” she muttered as she took a cautious step back. For the last ten minutes, Derek’s eyes had been permanently red and threatening. Had Allison known it was directed at her, she probably would have pulled the gun from her hip and put a bullet in his leg before running but she was safe.

It was the others that weren’t.

From behind the pair, Peter cackled while shaking his head toward the ceiling. The palm of his hand was flat against the wall next to him as he leaned against it, staring at particularly nothing. “This is utter shit,” he muttered. “When are those damn Betas going to learn that we’re going to find out whatever they hide eventually? You should hamstring them, Derek.”

I might just go that, he thought as he inhaled sharply. He had taken a break from watching Stiles, thinking that the wolves were done trying to find loopholes around him to get to Stiles. He was trying to give her the space she needed to see if she could heal on her own. It was only natural that shit would happen when he turned his back on her.

“They never said a word? None of them?” Allison questioned. All in all, she wasn’t too surprised. They didn’t want to tell Derek about the first time Stiles was in trouble so why would they now? She was disappointed more than anything, really. It was like they were trying to prove Stiles true, instead of showing her how much they care.

“None; guess that explains why Isaac still won’t look me in the eye.”

Allison snorted. “He won’t look at anyone but Stiles. It’s like he’s reverting back into his ‘puppy’ ways, before you gave him the bite.”

Peter came closer and stood next to his nephew, arms across his chest and eyes narrowed. “Since the little packlings won’t give up the details, you’ll have to tell us. Who exactly was harassing her? Where is the little bastard and what has been done to him in return?”

“Remember that kid I told you about before? The one that was missing? Greenburg? He upped his annoyance over a week and apparently tried to proposition her several times,” Allison said but was cut off by an intense growl from Derek. She signed and waited until Peter calmed him down before continuing. She spared the details about what she heard Danny saying and explained how she screamed for help.

“At least they did something,” Peter grumbled when she told them how the three wolves handled Greenburg during practice. Derek wasn’t as impressed. He thought they should have killed him.

“Where is he now?”

“Sheriff Stilinski arrested him Friday night after getting a call from Finstock. Word is around school that he got a slap on the wrist with some community service but the school expelled him. He’s not allowed back on the grounds and I’m pretty sure her dad’s going to get a restraining order on him.”

Derek growled into his hand, his eyes closed and nails sharpening into claws. “Why was he targeting Stiles?”

Allison shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. The only theory I have is it’s because she didn’t have the guys with her constantly. He saw her alone like he always was.”

Growling louder, he turned and paced through the living room. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself. “I shouldn’t have left her alone. All she does is get hurt. I should be there for her and yet I’m not.”

“Derek, she’s not exactly alone right now.”

He stopped at that and looked up. That statement could be taken one of two ways. First, Stiles found someone to replace him and that he would no longer be a presence in her life, healed or not. Second, Stiles had found someone to lean on for support and that he wasn’t replaced.


Luckily for him, it was the latter.

Allison told them all about Parker. After hearing that they had formed some kind of friendship, the huntress had taken it upon herself to do research. She wasn’t completely sold on the task, having never had to do it before because it was Stiles’ specialty but nothing she found proved him to be a threat to their favorite human. “He’s just a kid, really. Everything about him screams Stiles, so much that it’s scary. If I didn’t see the date on his birth certificate, I would swear he was her twin.”

Bursting with laughter, Peter clutched his stomach. “Great! Just what we need, another Stiles,” he spat out in between chuckles. “Only this time it’s a horny teenager. What a lovely gift my niece has given us.”

Even Derek and Allison couldn’t keep a straight face. Peter was right; Stiles in the form of an impulsive boy was dangerous territory. God help the planet now that she found her world domination partner.

“Is he good to her at least?” Derek questioned softly once the laughter died down. Allison nodded in return.

“He’s helping her. Dad said the sheriff told him she’s getting a little bit better. Not the same as before but he’s gotten some smiles and jokes here and there. It’s a start.”

That was good enough for Derek for now. He just needed to find a way back into her life before someone else snatched her up. Soon, he thought as he pulled out his cellphone and tossed it to Peter. “Send a group message for a training night; I think we need to go over a few rules with the Betas.”

A devilish note formed in his uncle’s eyes. “Please tell me this involves claws and shifting for scares.”




Saturday night, a week from disaster number two, was decided to be a fun night for Stiles and Parker. Because Parker would be playing the next night at a game, therefore resting as much as possible for the slim chance of getting to play, Stiles wanted to have her fill of hanging out until Monday after school. They voted on staying in, ordering pizza, and mindlessly burning their brain cells by playing a various amount of videogames.

The moment the sheriff came home, they were in the middle of a violent round of COD.

“Die bitch!” Stiles hissed as she jammed her fingers against the keys. She was behind Parker on her knees, chest against his back and elbows leaning on his shoulders for support. Her chin was resting on top of his head most of the time while the controller was at his neck in her hands.

From his expression, the sheriff could tell that his daughter’s antics did nothing to disturb him. Immediately, he thanked whatever deity that was listening for finally giving her a match in energy.

“Stiles, did you take your medicine?” he asked with a chuckle as he hung up his jacket and took a part his gun. John was surprised that he could even hear himself think with the TV and the sound of Blondie’s Call Me in the blasting in the background.

Why Stiles liked that music, he’d never understand.

“Hold on dad!” she called out before shooting her zombie villain straight between the eyes. She screamed in joy while the boy just chuckled at her. He reached onto the table for the remote to pause the game and turn down the music. “Yes, I did take my meds. You’re home early. What’s up?”

“They have a new recruit and decided I could take an early leave for the night,” the sheriff answered as he collapsed in the loveseat diagonal from them. He looked at Parker with a curious smile. “You must be the boy that’s gotten my daughter all hyper again.”

Stiles dropped the remote and threw her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him back into her body. “He’s my mini-me,” she squealed and kissed his cheek, causing the boy to blush slightly. “Dad, this is Parker. Parker, you probably already know of the sheriff but that’s him without the gun. You’re safe for now.”

Parker leaned forward and held out his hand to him, ignoring the fact that Stiles’ body moved with him. “Nice to meet you in person, sir.”

John laughed and shook his head after letting go of his hand. “Polite is nice to see in this day of age but please, just John. Sir makes me feel older than I already am.”

“You aren’t old; you’re ancient,” Stiles quipped with a goofy smile. The sheriff couldn’t be annoyed with her comment, not ever seeing her expression. He had yearned to see her that happy for days and weeks.

“Watch it,” he warned playfully. “Did you guys order something in for dinner?”

“Two extra cheesy pizzas,” Parker answered. John grinned and opened his wallet, taking out a twenty and a ten. He handed them to Stiles, who looked at him curiously. She had been fully prepared to buy their dinner.

“I’ll pay if I get a few slices, no complaints about my diet either,” he offered. Stiles bit her lip then shrugged. One night wouldn’t hurt him, she thought.

Soon enough the pizzas arrived, the game went off, and Stiles invited her father to watch Avatar with the pair. For once, he agreed to and thus began their night.

Toward the end, Stiles got up to start cleaning. It was late and she still had to drive Parker home but she didn’t want to leave a mess for her father. God only knows he was as tired as she was. She carried the empty boxes into the kitchen and placed them on the table before going back to get their glasses and plates. She tossed her father’s beer bottle into the recycle before going to the sink to wash the rest.

She’s lucky she didn’t scream the paper ball flew through the window. That’s all she would need, especially since her father and Parker were so relaxed that they were nearly asleep. She did freeze though, soapy dish in hand and the ball at her feet. It was only a few moments after her brain stopped working that she put the dish down and picked it up to read it.


Bet you Parker’s a screamer. Think he likes being bitten?

By the way, nice booty shorts. Look’s hot, Stilinski.


There was no question about who put that up there. Stiles knew the only crass person who would call her out was Greenburg. She glared and reached up, ignoring the fear she felt inside, and slammed the window shut.

“Stiles? You okay in there, bud?”

Dropping the plate back into the sink, she stuffed the ball into the pocket of her sweatshirt. “Yeah, perfectly fine!” she called back. Stiles couldn’t even combine words to tell how thankful she was that the movie credits’ music hid the shakiness in her voice. She hurried up with the rest of the dishes before putting everything away. Glancing out the window, she stared, wondering if he was still out there.

Protection, her voice murmured. “Protection,” she repeated quietly. She flitted around the kitchen, pulling open drawers and cabinets for anything useful. Finally she came across the knife drawer. She didn’t think before she chose the sharpest out of the bunch before slipping it into the back pocket of her shorts and pulling her sweatshirt over it.

She bounced as she came back into the living room. It was like Greenburg’s mere presence caused her medicine to stop working because she couldn’t keep still, nor could she focus on anything but getting Parker out of there.

“Come on kid,” she murmured as she patted his cheek. Blinking hazily, he yawned. Parker must have drifted off while she was busy. “I got to get you home before you’re mother beheads me. It’s close to eleven.”

Parker smiled and got off the couch. Despite being asleep not even a minute before, he launched into a deep discussion about science fiction. Normally that would have thrilled Stiles but she could barely comprehend what he was saying.

“Be careful, Stiles,” her father said with a yawn as he got off the couch. Stiles gave him her best fake smile before nodding and grabbing her keys. She grabbed Parker’s stuff and then grabbed his hand to pull him to the jeep. While she pretended to listen, she glanced around, wanting to make sure she saw nothing in the shadows.

The drive was short, thankfully, and Parker went straight in. She waited until the door closed and the light was off before grabbing her handy pouch and spreading her favorite defense method, Mountain Ash, around his house in the grass. No one except the supernatural and her would ever know, nor would they need to.




Parents should not be naturally gifted in the art of guilt tripping their children. It should be illegal, outlawed, and banned from Earth. Now, Stiles knew that that was all wishful thinking but she couldn’t help but grumble as the sheriff pushed her to the car. They ignored her sad looking jeep in exchange for John’s personal car, a Chevy that looks like it saw its final days years ago. 

Somehow, without the persuasion of his gun, he had managed to get Stiles out of the house. Yes, there was physical force involved when it came to getting through the threshold but for the most part, he managed to drag her out with his words only. The sheriff suspected it was because he refused to tell her where he was taking her, that it was her curiosity that made her guard fall a little bit. Really, he didn’t care, just as long as he got her out of the house.

He knew the problems started with the pack but John couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that it was more than that. After she broke her alliance with the wolves, she struggled to get up but she kept pushing herself. The nightmares lasted a few nights and the restlessness took a while to calm down but she managed to pull herself up. At least, that’s what he thought until he got a call from her coach, telling him that the same little punk he brought back from the city was harassing his baby.

When he got the details from Stiles about what was going on, he could tell she was holding back on some things. She was never a good liar; her body went haywire with jitters and fidgets until she stopped talking. He never pushed her though – he was afraid to. He thought she was still on a fine line between completely falling apart and barely holding herself together.

The past week proved him right.

The night he found out about this kid, Greenburg, he came home to hear Stiles screaming in her sleep. When he woke her up, she played it off as a nightmare but the nightmares from the pack had stopped only a few days after the initial fight. Besides that fact, Stiles looked petrified as she sat in her bed, panting and desperately trying to bring herself away from the oncoming panic attack. The last time he had ever seen her that scared was after her mother died, when she would wake up screaming for Claudia to come back.

Add that in with the extreme paranoia and protectiveness, and the sheriff knew something was very wrong.

As he opened the rusty door for her, he thought back to the day before when he met Parker, a sophomore from the lacrosse team. He was overjoyed that Stiles had finally found a friend, taking it as a sign that she was honestly getting better without the pack, but that feeling was extinguished the moment she left to take him home. John had watched them from the front window, just to see how she interacted without him there, and was completely surprised.

While Parker was talking as fast as he could about something exciting, Stiles was barely listening. She hovered at his side protectively and her eyes darted around every few seconds, as if waiting for something to jump out from the bushes or trees and attack. Her posture was stiff and ready, poised to knock Parker down it seems by the way she kept her hand in his.

He also did not fail to see the silver gleam of a kitchen knife in her back pocket, peeking out from under her sweatshirt and shining from the light of the porch,

Being in the dark was frustrating but he knew the moment he tried to talk to her, Stiles would shut down. It would be like confronting her about the wolves all over again and he wasn’t about to push her away after just starting to get pieces of her back.

John thought about confronting Derek. He had went after him the morning after the whole mess and told him he had to fix Stiles but the only way to do that was to leave her alone, no matter how much it hurt the both of them. He then wanted to go tell him about Greenburg but two problems came with that: one, he would probably kill the kid and, despite the sheriff’s own feelings, he’d have to arrest him; and two, Stiles would despise her father for arresting Derek.

Now, after seeing her so terrified and wanting to tell Derek so he could protect her and her friend from whatever was bothering her, the only thing stopping him was Stiles herself. Lately, she always wanted to know where he was, when he’d be home, and how long he’d be gone, therefore inhibiting him from giving the Hale pack. She’s probably chain him in the house if she knew he was even thinking about going near the wolves.

I’m between a rock and a hard place, he thought for the thousandths time this week.

The car ride was silent and uncomfortable. Stiles was borderline pouting – her lips curled downward, red hood up and covering her face, and arms crossed around her chest – while she sat slumped down in her seat. The seatbelt strained around her crooked form as she stared into the darkening evening, watching as the gray clouds took over.

John was lucky the seatbelt didn’t snap when she shot up as he pulled into the school’s parking lot. A yelp escaped her lips as she lurched forward, her body snapping like a rubber band against the back of her seat. “Why are we here?” she demanded to know when he put the car into park. Her voice was filled with panic and anxiety.

“I’m tired of you moping around kid. You can’t let them rule your life,” he explained as he shut the engine off and turned to face her. It was a lie, partially, but he just wanted to find out what was scaring her half to death. And if he couldn’t do that, at least give her some relief. He figured Stiles would calm down if she was near Parker and him at the same time. “I’m worried about you, Stiles. You’re still not back to normal.”

“Do you really expect me to be? I told you I’m trying,” she grumbled in reply. Like he expected, she started to shut down.

“I know you are. But I want to give you a push and I’m going to do that by forcing you to support your team. You may not be playing but don’t you think your boys deserve their number one fan’s support? We all miss our old Stiles… you know, the one that would scream and get yelled at the refs for being loud?”

“You have your ‘old’ Stiles.”

“Curly fries and a comic book addict can only do so much.”

Stiles bit her lip as she looked away from him. Her legs started to bounce, thumping against the floor board like two erratic jackhammers. She knew he was right. She should have known he would have noticed the lack of change. Her father wasn’t an idiot – he raised her, for God’s sake!

“They’re going to be there, dad. All of them. They’re going to support their star players,” Stiles finally whispered. She sounded as crushed as she had in the beginning and it broke his heart all over again. He tried to cover it up with a soft smile as best as he could.

“That’s why I brought the gun with me, kid. They’ll leave you alone.”

There was no arguing with him. She bantered with his statements, trying to find a loophole but Stiles was up against a steel wall. He knew the law and somehow incorporated it into his personal wars.

That should be illegal as well; she thought when she finally gave in. Being the smartass that taught Stiles all of her skills, John grinned and forced her out of the car before dragging her over to the brightly lit fields. The bleachers were already mostly filled so it wasn’t a surprise that Mrs. McCall had saved them seats. She was a sweetheart like that, and Stiles knew that despite the shit that went down between her and Scott, she wouldn’t take sides. She was the mother figure in her life so there were no grudges there.

“Well, well, well;” the smirking nurse mumbled as Stiles hesitantly took a seat next to her. Still dressed in her rubber duck scrubs, she turned completely to face Stiles with a look that could crack diamonds. “Do my eyes deceive me? Has the one and only Stiles Stilinski finally emerged from her lair?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles muttered as she kept her eyes straight. She didn’t get how Melissa could look at her like that, like she had done something wrong.

“That’s bull and you know it,” she cackled. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen you in my house? Weeks, kid. I know life gets busy in the end of your senior year but you could still visit. Besides, you’re long overdue for another sleepover.”

Stiles’ neck snapped to the side as she stared at Melissa, her honey eyes wide like flying saucers. Not only was that just mean to do, it was plain cruel. She would have known how painful it was to be separated from the pack and taunting like that is like a knife digging deeper and deeper but never breaking the barrier on the other side. It was torture.

“Melissa,” John warned but he figured it out right away, unlike Stiles. He was glad they were so packed inside the bleachers or else he would have gone for his gun and started a goose hunt for her son. He doubted Melissa would be fond of him after putting a few bullets into him though. “Enough.”

Melissa narrowed her eyes at him, confused by his simple word. Her face said it all for Stiles, which ignited a fire that had been extinguished for days. “Oh my God,” she muttered, her tone torn between sarcasm, amusement, and just plain anger. “He never told you, did he? Scott never said a word to you?”
            “No…?” Melissa answered, hesitant and wary. It then changed to suspicious and flat. “What is my son hiding from me this time? If it’s another kind of supernatural creature, I’m going to skin him into a new skirt and matching jacket.”

Stiles wondered how she was supposed to explain what Scott and the others did to her to Melissa. There was no way to just come out and say, hey, your son and his dipshit friends screwed me over so that’s why I’ve been avoiding your part of town like the plague. Hope you home mind. So, she simplified it.

“Scott and I aren’t friends anymore. I left the pack.” Turning forward, Stiles let it drop before the conversation lead to either opening a can of worms or the murders of a few werewolves and a banshee. How embarrassing would it be if her own father had to arrest her for cracking them each open like a coconut?

Very embarrassing. School newspaper embarrassing.

Melissa’s expression mimicked Stiles’ surprised one from earlier. When she gained some kind of control, she looked over at the sheriff, her eyes screaming questions and demanding answers. John sighed, wishing he wasn’t the one to explain to her that her son turned out to be a jackass but then again, he wouldn’t want Stiles to break down.

Later, he mouthed. Melissa looked like she wanted to protest but in the end, she dropped it. It was good enough for now.




The game was going to hell in a nicely decorated and woven hand basket. It was like the gods of Lacrosse decided to come and tramp on the Beacon Hills team. That or they just really had bad luck and someone was pissed off enough to curse them into losing.

Lakers Beach Lacrosse team was composed of all boys standing over eight feet tall and four feet wide. Okay, that was Stiles exaggerating but compared to her and the rest of her boys, they might as well have been that big. The players were tough and cruel, definitely not afraid to get dirty. The shit they pulled on the field was mostly illegal and it certainly didn’t help that both of the refs were from their district.

The score being ten to zero within the first twenty minutes and her team being the only side that had penalties called, they weren’t going to last long. Stiles was pissed, maybe more so than Coach Finstock, who was cursing like a trucker at the sidelines. She was one of the only ones on her feet, screaming like a mad woman at the idiots running the game. Her red hood had fallen, revealing her disheveled, knotted hair and crazy eyes. Even the guests from the other district thought she looked insane.

That’s okay though. Stiles swore she was halfway there. By the end of the game, she would be institutionalized.

Not before I have someone’s head mounted for this, she thought as she started yelling again when the ref called a foul after one of the defense players purposely body slammed Isaac Lahey into the ground. In no way did she care that it was Isaac, nor did she feel any pride that he was hurt. She was too furious to feel anything but that.

“Illegal, that’s an illegal move, you moron!” she shouted, ignoring her father as he tried to tug her back onto the seat. “Bench his ass!”

“Stiles!” the sheriff hissed but others around her jumped up and yelled in agreement. If she kept it up, there would be a Beacon Hills’ riot within the next ten minutes.

“Language, miss!” the other ref yelled up to her with a smug expression. Nose flaring and eyes twitching, Stiles growled lowly to herself and flipped him off. Others who witnessed the act laughed. Even John chuckled to himself.

“Language, my ass,” she muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest. She ignored him for the rest of the time, her eyes trained on the field as she watched them help Isaac wobble over to the bench. Even though the wolves had perfected the art of acting like an injured human, Stiles honestly thought Isaac looked hurt.

She ignored the pain in her chest.

A half hour later and the team went through almost all of their replacement players. It was like the opposing team had a goal to injure as many as they could, forcing her boys to forfeit for lack of players. Each time another player was hurt, Stiles got even more anxious and angry. They had only scored three goals while the others had gotten about six more. There wasn’t a very likely chance they could come back from this

Danny was smacked in the face with a ball one of the dickheads had hurled at him. The force was so strong that it stunned him first before he fell onto his back, straight into the net. While the monsters laughed at the sight, the others rushed over to make sure he was alright. Stiles watched with thick worry, praying that everybody’s favorite goalie was alright and awake. Luckily, he was awake but the paramedics still carried him off the field and toward the ambulance. They couldn’t risk any damage to his skull, helmet or not.

“McCall, get in there for Danny. Parker, take McCall’s spot,” Coach ordered. The irritation in his tone swept through the crowd, gaining more anger. Stiles was unmoving and silent though. Parker, her inexperienced and quite clumsy buddy, was going out to play. Against those jarheads. That towered over his already all form.

“You’re fucked, Parker,” she whispered to herself, her fingers covering her lips to keep anything else from coming in. She wanted to be positive for him but this was impossible. They would personally target him and take him down the moment that stupid whistle blew. Then he would be carted away like Danny and the others.

He was also their last replacement. After Parker or anyone else that got injured, they were done. All of this would be pure vanity.

For the first time in weeks, Stiles wanted to be out on the field with her boys, hopefully winning for them since no one else seemed to be able to. Even the wolves were off their game tonight. Stiles wouldn’t be, though. Oh no, she knew she wouldn’t be. She would be making those monkeys cry.

Just like she expected, unfortunately, it happened. The minute the whistle went off, Parker froze and three of them tackled him. Her poor baby was under all of those worthless piles of crap. She wanted to cry when they got off him and he laid still. The boy was stunned like Danny and possibly ached a thousand times more. She could hear him groaning and wanted to literally kick someone’s ass for that. The paramedics had to get another stretcher when he couldn’t move much.

“Replacement, Finstock,” the ref ordered, calling a pause. Finstock turned and stared at the bench, loaded with all injured players. Like she said, there wasn’t anyone else. They both knew it, too. “I’ll give you ten minutes to find a replacement. After that, it’s a forfeit and Laker’s Beach wins the game.”

Stiles stood, chewing on her nails so hard that she was cutting skin. She was jittery, like uncontrollably jittery. Her eyes flickered around, between the players on the field, her distressed coach, and the wary crowd. In the next second, pills were being pushed into her hand along with a bottle of water. She took them willingly as she looked questionably down at her father.

“I figured you would need them,” he said with a shrug. Even he was stressed out.

Letting the water wash them down, Stiles looked back at her teammates. Their eyes showed how heartbroken and angry they were. Losing against these people would be humiliating and she knew it. She couldn’t just stand there.

Looking between her father’s semi-blank expression and the field, Stiles sighed after a few minutes and gave him the water back. She climbed her way down the bleachers, pushing her way through the chattering people.

“Stiles!” her father called out, standing up with wide eyes. “Where are you going?”

“To find clothes!” She yelled back as she jumped off the last bench. Looking back up at him, she gave him what she thought was her best goofy smile. “You told me to start living my life. Well, my team needs me and they’re my life so I’ll listen to you for once.”

“They’ll crush you!” he argued but the tiny teen was already off and running behind them. He didn’t know what to say to her except to follow his late mother’s example and say a few prayers.

Chapter Text

Behind the bleachers, Stiles wondered how she was going to be able to change and get back in time from the locker room. It was nearly impossible with how far off the building was. As she grumbled to herself about coming up with a plan, she was interrupted by a higher pitched voice.

“Stiles! I got you!” the familiar soprano tone called out. Stiles turned and watched as Allison ran toward her with her gym bag. She stopped in front of her, panting heavily, as she pulled the strings apart. “Some of it will be big on you, that’s fine. We can make it work. You’re sneakers will do as well; there aren’t any rules about needing cleats to play.”

Though a thousand questions were running through her mind, Stiles looked around, made sure no one was in eyesight of them and started to strip. The sweatshirt and t-shirt were shoved into Allison’s hands, leaving her in a plain black bra and her jeans. She tugged Allison’s flimsy tank over, completely ignoring the sports bra. She didn’t need to fuss with that.

Not much later, the jeans were off, replaced by black basketball shorts that seemed just a tiny bit long against her pale legs. She was freezing in the damp air but she would deal with it. There were more important things that needed to be taken care of. Who needed body heat anyway?

“How did you know?” Stiles asked as she yanked her hair back into a low, messy pony tail to start. Taking another band, she wrapped it up off her neck into a bun to fit under a helmet.

“I figured you would be edgy after the third player was out. When I saw Parker get called in, I knew you would do something,” Allison answered as she watched Stiles lace her converse tighter. Biting her lip, she dared to ask a random and out of place question, knowing that any other time, Stiles would blow her off. “Are we okay, Stiles?”

Despite the range of emotions she felt, Stiles kept her head down and continued on what she was doing. Feeling rude though, she answered honestly when she looked up at her from under her lashes.

“We’re getting there,” she said and popped back up onto her feet. “I’ll see you after the game. Cheer for us!” she added as she ran away from Allison to go back in front of the bleachers. She heard Allison yell after her but instead of answering, she went to the ambulance Parker was in. Climbing in and ignoring the protests of the medics, she greeted her friend with a smile. “Hey kid. You look like hell.”

Parker smiled tiredly, and she could see the pain contort his face. “You saw that?”

Chuckling, she nodded. “Yeah kid, I saw. Epic landing, by the way. We’ll go over some techniques later so that next time, you won’t get hurt so badly.”

Parker reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly. “Why are you in here and not cheering on the others, Stiles?”           

“I need a favor,” she murmured, biting her lip cautiously. She laced their fingers together, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. “Finstock is out of replacement players and I plan on going in there and finishing up this game with dignity. I need a jersey though and I think it would be only fair if I stole yours.”

Parker didn’t hesitate. She helped him sit up as painlessly as possible while removing his jersey as fast as she could. She helped him back down before pulling the jersey over her head and grabbing his helmet.

“Win for me?” Parker suggested. Stiles laughed and nodded. She leaned down, kissed his cheek, and then grinned.

“No loser, I’m going to do more. I’m going to make them wish they never hurt Stilinski’s pet. I’m going to make them cry like little girls.” 

“Go get them, lioness,” Parker murmured as he watched Stiles disappear back out the doors.


Derek Hale wedged his way between a very angry Mrs. McCall and a floored John Stilinski. Any other day, it would have been even more hilarious than it already was because of who he was looking at but he knew why each of them was like this. He hadn’t been listening in solely for Stiles’ heartbeat, despite that being very likely.

“She’s going to be squished,” the sheriff whispered. Derek chuckled and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“She’ll be fine. You know that. She ran with wolves,” he replied softly. It hurt to use the past tense but he was going to change that soon.

“They’re three times her size.”

“She’s also a sneaky little brat who knows how to get herself in and out of trouble.”

Melissa had other ideas of conversation with Derek. She mimicked her actions with Stiles and faced her entire body toward him. In an intimidating way, she reminded him of his mother, Talia. It was deeper than the dark hair, sparkling eyes, and the way both women held themselves around men. Melissa was like Talia because she was deceiving. As innocent as she was, she could probably kill anyone with just a look.

“When were you going to tell me my son messed up so badly that his best friend is no longer his best friend and that Stiles needed to leave the pack?”

He was as shocked as Stiles was. Derek thought she knew but then again, it was Scott. He would forget his head if it wasn’t screwed on so tightly. “I thought you knew,” he answered honestly. Derek was a lot more composed than Stiles had been. “I figured Scott would have come to you for advice?”

“No, he didn’t,” she hissed. “What did he do to her?”

“Now isn’t the best time,” he murmured, his attention caught by the tiny girl running in front of bleachers in an oddly composed ‘uniform’. He could see the Goosebumps on her arms and legs as she past their section. Derek just wanted to gather her up and cradle her in his jacket to keep her warm. That would get him slapped though.

“Coach!” she yelled, distracting Finstock from three football players who didn’t have a clue about what Lacrosse was. Finstock was annoyed he was interrupted on such a short time schedule but the relief that washed over his face when he saw it was Stiles was enough to fill the Pacific Ocean.

“Thank you God,” he muttered, waving Stiles over. She jogged over and let him help her with the pads and other gear. He would have been happy with anyone as a replacement but with Stiles, there was a tiny bit of hope left.

The other team didn’t share his views.

“She can’t play!” their coach yelled as he stomped his way over. Their co-captains flanked his sides. While Stiles rolled her eyes in indignation, Coach glared at him and asked him why. His answer? “She’s a girl, Finstock! This is a boys’ lacrosse team!”

Before Coach could respond to that, Stiles decided to get smart with him. “You don’t know that,” she said. Derek’s mouth opened, as did her father’s, but he closed it from stopping the growl that wanted to come out.

The other coach stared at her incredulously while the two captains stared at her like she was an idiot. “Are you serious right now?” he asked her.

“I am very serious. There is no way without undressing me that you can prove I am not a girl,” she argued determinedly, her stance defensive and arrogant.

“You have breasts, smart ass!” the other hissed.

“Man boobs, you pervert. Now get your homo eyes off my chest,” she answered with a sly wink. “Unless, you swing that way. I may be open for experimentation after the game.”

Derek couldn’t stop the laughter that only Stiles could cause. He knew for a fact that, not only would Stiles not be into a guy like that, but that Melissa and John would be very concerned about him if Stiles was not at the focus of every person on the field. He could hear laughter from their side, and mutters and curses from the other team.

“You’re voice is high,” one of the captains said flatly but Stiles was already shaking her head. Ever heard of a male soprano? ‘Cause that’s what you’ll be when I’m done with you if you don’t back off, she wanted to say but was afraid that would cause her to get her head bashed.

“Maybe,” she started off slowly, “just maybe, my dick got cut off in a freak accident. Maybe my nuts got permanently crushed in from a fight. Maybe my voice is just naturally high, since there are guys who are born with a higher voice level,” she paused to let her crass words sink in. “So really, you can’t prove if I am a boy or a girl. For all you know, I could be both… maybe neither. Anything else?”

“You…you…!” the coach stuttered, going over mentally through different arguments. “You don’t even have cleats!”

“They aren’t a requirement in this game. Handbook says so.”

There was nothing else they could argue without getting a lawsuit thrown at them so they agreed, resentfully, to let her play. She gathered a stick from one of the guys and took Parker’s place in the field. Sadly, this meant going up against the four hundred pound wall of thick grissle that mostly tackled Parker but hey, who was she complaining? This was her time to shine.

“I can start off,” she heard Jackson murmur quietly behind her. Good for him, she thought; he’s actually learned to stay off my back.

“I’ve got it,” she muttered in return and took position on the line. She took position, bending down and readying herself to strike for the ball. She was going to do this. She needed to. Her team needed it.

“Nice cleavage, man,” her opponent sneered with a laugh. So he thought he was funny. He thought he was a comedian. I’ll show him funny, she growled silently.

“Nice bruise, man,” Stiles retorted. The confused expression that crossed his face was enough to make her smirk. He was just about to ask what she meant when the whistle blew and Stiles dove down, capturing it in her stick. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jackson run, signaling he was open. She flung her stick, letting the ball glide out and into his before anyone else could get to them.

The best part… err, problem, was that Stiles let the control over her handle go and the stick spun in her palm before the end smacked into the player’s face. Feeling the jolt, he stumbled in shock while Stiles tightened her grip again. 

Looking over her shoulder, her eyes were doe-like and glistening. “Oops, my bad, bro,” she murmured in an unapologetic way before running off after her teammates. The game had begun and Derek couldn’t think of a better way to describe his girl than just being perfect.


Stiles was completely, entirely focused during the game.

Yes, that was a lie. A large one as well, if her wild body movements in the first twenty minutes were any clue to it. Her medicine was barely in effect and she has having the worst time trying to concentrate on the game. She would easily get distracted but somehow, it worked in her team’s favor. If she was distracted, so were the rivals. The guys had been paying special attention to Stiles and her awkward actions, easily forgetting that Jackson Whittemore was known for his stealth and speed.

Just within that time period, they had scored three goals.

When the Adderall sank into her system though, Stiles felt her control become stronger. It was a miracle, really. She was actually able to get the inner details of the game without flailing her arms or jumping around like a toddler on crack, and she was able to keep still long enough to find the ball.

It seemed to throw the other team a wicked curve ball when Stiles lunged after the player with the ball. She swore she would never forget their priceless expressions. She definitely also didn’t need an explanation as to why they turned paler than her and mimicked a deer in headlights.

Hell, even she was surprised that she was able to dodge through the throng of behemoths.

She was even more surprised when she threw herself into one of them so someone else could finally get the ball. That’s right bitch, she thought smugly as she tried to stop her head from spinning. I took one for my team.

The ref blew his whistle but only after Whittemore scored a goal. Stiles let herself think that if she hadn’t body slammed the boulder, that wouldn’t have happened. Her teammates helped her up, all laughing at Stiles’ tactfulness.

“It got a goal, didn’t it?”

Richie, a fresh-faced junior, chuckled. “And painted a nice red target on your back Stilinski; they’re all looking at you like your halfway in your grave now.”

She snorted and followed his gaze, finding truth in his statement by how the entire team was glaring at her while her victim was brushing himself off. She couldn’t help but feel shocked that she had managed to stop that.

“Well,” she murmured, cracking her neck and sighing in relief. She had a feeling she was going to need a personal masseuse for the next week if she wanted to walk again. “Red is my best color. I’ve been told it makes my eyes pop.”


“She’s going to get herself killed,” the sheriff hissed as he glared at his daughter. Stiles had him convinced since Claudia died that he was going to leave earth because of too many delicious cheeseburgers and pizzas. Now, irony was kicking him in the ass repeatedly because John was all too sure his daughter would be the cause by giving him a heart attack.

Next to him, Derek was torn between laughing and tearing someone’s throat out. It was the first time in weeks that anyone besides her father had witnessed Stiles’ natural antics but it was at the expense of being a ragdoll for the opposing team. Had they not been surrounded by so many humans, he would have killed the entire team just for the looks they were giving her.

“Both of you – chill! Stiles can take care of herself. Both of you know that more than anyone.” Melissa murmured, patting Derek’s arm gently. He knew she was right. It was irrational to think otherwise; after all she had been through, especially. Still, the thought of her going up against them made him cringe.

The sexist remarks and looks she kept getting didn’t help though.

“Derek, when is the last time you actually talked to Stiles?” Melissa asked. Derek flinched when the answer came to mind. Was it supposed to physically hurt?

“Longer than I like,” he grumbled as his hazel eyes stayed glued to her. While the ref made sure the player she slammed into was okay, she was with some of the guys, stretching out sore limbs. He found himself biting his lip at the sight, holding in an all-together different type of growl. In an alternate world right now, Derek would be having a game of tackling and stretching with Stiles alone.

Damn these humans, he thought bitterly.

“No wonder you look like you want to kill someone. Does she know what ignoring you is doing?”

“He never told her,” the sheriff murmured before Derek could answer. After seeing the questioning look the Alpha was giving him, John shrugged lazily. “Don’t even deny it Hale. I see how you look at my daughter. Why do you think I told you specifically to fix her?”

“You knew this entire time…yet you haven’t killed me,” Derek murmured incredulously. Both Melissa and John laughed.

“Anyone else would be happy about that! I wanted to when I first realized but then I looked at Stiles and knew she’d hate me if I as much gave you a paper cut, let alone shot you. Not that it would do any good. You’d just heal in a minute or so.”

Derek could only stare at him until he shrugged. “Huh; fair enough,” he answered, facing forward. The game had resumed and Stiles was quickly turning into the star player. While she was blocking one of the open players, down on the opposite side of the bleachers was Lydia starting a chant for her. Soon enough, the entire Beacon Hills side was chanting her name.

The chanting turned into a wild cheers when out of nowhere, rain started to pour from the sky, and somehow, Stiles managed to get the ball passed to her. She scored immediately, not even slowing down for the downpour or the distant thunder. Everyone jumped to their feet for her score, cheering her on louder and louder. Derek was grinning madly, shouting for her. People stared back at him with amused and shocked smirks but in no way was he ashamed of his actions.

“Hale, make yourself useful and hold this.” Melissa smirked at him and held out an opened umbrella. Being polite, he looked away from Stiles for a second and took the umbrella, holding it over him, Melissa, and the sheriff for the rest of the time.

If Derek still smiled like an idiot, well, that was no one’s business but his.


Despite the wet weather and the darker sky, the game was getting better and better for Stiles. After she scored her first goal, she was on a role. Running around in the mud in converse was more fun than she thought and she was able to slip and slide around the other players.

It got even better when someone started to blast music from their car. After scoring her third goal and bringing her team to the tie line, she could hear Macklemore’s Thrift Shop through the rain and started to dance. The crowd laughed as she did a reinvention of the running man in front of some of the defense opposition.

It was epic, to say the least.

After her teammates started to chase one of the others players, she slowed to catch her breath. Naturally, a harmless action turned into something more for Stiles. As she looked up to find her father in the bleachers, her eyes were caught by two hazel marbles belonging to someone she thought she would never see again, let alone at a school game.

Her breath hitched when Derek realized Stiles was staring at him. He stood straight, never once looking away from her. His face was blankly shocked for a few moments but when she didn’t look away, in turned into something soft… sad.

“Sour-wolf,” she whispered before she could stop herself. His eyebrows rose slightly and the corners of his mouth started to turn up.

It had only been a few weeks but Derek Hale certainly did not look like the Derek Hale Stiles knew. Though he had calmed down after the Alpha pack dispersed, he was still a bastard, hence her nickname for him. Her sour-wolf but she’d never phrase it like that to him. He’d turn her into dessert if she slipped with that.

Beside the light hearted appearance, he looked tired. Dark circles ringed his eyes, which Stiles knew for a fact that they were from him being punched. They would have healed over immediately. He was also lacking leather, a staple that he never left that goddamn loft without. Instead, he wore a navy sweatshirt and worn down, broken in jeans. Now that… that was just weird; it shouldn’t be possible.

It got even weirder when he smiled at her.

What the hell? Stiles wanted to ask why but shouting brought her back to reality.

“STILINSKI! Get your head out of your ass and get that ball!” Coach screamed at her, forcing her to look over toward the crowd of players. One of guys had gotten the ball back from her team and was dodging around, trying to find a loophole. She knew with everyone causing a distraction, McCall would have difficulty trying to stop him from scoring, even with werewolf senses to back him up.

She ran for it. She didn’t know what she was going to do but she still ran. She ignored the panicked thoughts in her mind and let her body do the work. Apparently, it knew exactly what to do because she made it around the sea of boys and went straight for the goal, no plan known.

Well, here goes nothing bitches.


Derek couldn’t believe she was even looking at him. At first he thought she was just daydreaming, until he noticed the look of disbelief in her eyes. What that was for, he didn’t know. He was just so fucking happy that she noticed he was there for her.

“Sour-wolf,” she whispered. He had heard her, even over the rain and music. The word, a nickname Stiles had developed the first year they met, was no longer the bane of his existence. He glowed hearing it come from her lips again and he wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. He wanted to hear it all the time, if it meant Stiles was with him.

All too soon, their connection was broken by the idiotic coach screaming at her. Derek growled in his direction, wanting to skewer him for ruining his progress, but thankfully the sound was drowned out by the crowd. When he looked back at Stiles, the miniature lacrosse player had taken off running around the others toward the goal.

What she did had basically stunned the crowd into silence. Right as the ball was shot at a distracted Scott McCall, Stiles leaped up and caught the ball midair, before landing back on her feet, ball in net. Everyone froze at the sight, even Stiles. She couldn’t believe it actually worked, let alone the fact that she hadn’t fallen on her ass and broke anything.

Even the opposing team was shocked at her moves.

“Run, Stiles, run!” Allison screamed from somewhere in the bleachers. Derek had recognized her voice immediately and knew Stiles would too. Stiles looked up, eyes wide and huge, but was still stuck. So, Derek decide he would try, since the other team started to move.

“STILES, run!” he yelled, hoping she’d know it was him cheering her on. “You can do it, just run!”

Slipping from her haze, Stiles started to run. Her dirtied converse lost their traction as she skidded through the mud but she found her footing and ran like hell. With the help of the guys, she dodged the others and tried to get through.

Looking up at the scoreboard, there was only seconds left, under a minute of time to get across the field. Somehow, she did it through and moved like lightning through the wet grass, stick clamped tightly in hands.

With ten feet between her and the goal, she took a chance to break the tie and aimed low. The force flew from her stick with such force that it amazed Derek. He never expected someone so small to be capable of flinging a ball with that much effort.

She was good though. Too good.


The ball hit the net, the buzzer went off, and Beacon Hills turned into a circus. Everyone from their side and the team, even the lovely paramedics, burst into celebration when they saw that the home team had won.

Stiles, however, just stared in shock. She was trying to wrap her mind around it but couldn’t seem to understand how she scored the winning goal. It was illogical, implausible, and downright unbelievable.

It fucking happened!

The team crowded around her, jostling her around and praising her for saving the night. She even heard McCall, who intelligently stayed far back from her, call her batman. Of course, had this been a month before, she would have been smiling brightly at that. It honestly meant nothing now.

“I should have just made you captain,” Fintock murmured when he squeezed her shoulder. She beamed at that but laughed. She was not captain material; that was for sure.

The team drifted away from her, leaving her back to staring at the net. “I made a goal,” she murmured, smiling softly.

“You made several, I believe.”

“I won the game.”

“Yeah, you did.”


Stiles flung around, only to face the Alpha himself. Derek stood there, hands stuffed in his pocket, hair and faced soaked, eyes glistening. He was beautiful, as always. It hurt her to even look at him.

“Derek,” she said softly, removing her helmet from her head. Her frizzled hair was immediately sodden with the precipitation as she looked up at him curiously and nervously.

“That was a good game,” he murmured, looking down at his feet. The action made him look like a normal high school boy, one shy and sweet. It was confusing because never once had Stiles noticed that about him. It was like in her mind, Derek Hale always has been a grumpy man. Even hearing about him in high school with Page from Peter, she couldn’t picture him younger than the twenty-some years he was now. “Well, at least when you started to play. It was shit before you got on the field.”           

“I… I couldn’t let them just lose like that. I have practice with them and I didn’t think I could put up with over twenty guys moping in the locker room,” she rambled on. Her body vibrated when he looked up at her with a smile.

“You’re probably going to be their hero for a while,” he chuckled. “I wouldn’t blame them. They seemed like they missed you playing.” Derek paused for a second, his eyes shifting down again. He hesitated on whether he wanted to continue what he was saying but finally opened his mouth. “They aren’t the only ones, you know. I know what they did… it was bad, Stiles. I wish I knew so I could have stopped them in the beginning but I couldn’t. You have every right to do what you did… but still. I’m pretty sure they feel like shit and miss you. Peter misses you… He won’t stop moping around whenever the others are there. It’s kind of shocking he hasn’t killed one of them yet…”

Stiles gazed at him, completely astonished at his words. It didn’t hurt like she thought it would, talking to him about it. If anything, it helped ease the pain she felt. He alleviated it for her and she wanted nothing more to keep it going.

“Stiles, I miss you,” he finally added, taking a step forward. Her lungs caught once the words registered in her mind and it took everything, yes everything, to stop herself from tackling him in a gigantic bear hug. “I miss having you around all the time. I miss seeing you. I even miss the damn sarcasm and nonstop talking,” he said with a chuckle. “You got to understand how bad it is if I miss that. It’s just not the same without you.”

“Derek I–” She stopped. Her eyes were no longer on Derek but to the left of his arms, on the trees behind him. Standing in the shadows of the trees were two people, one she had been worried about for days and the other one she had hoped to never see again.

Greenburg leaned against the tree, smirking and tsking, his eyes on her and Derek. He shook his head and crossed his arms across his chest. Next to him was Tommy, her friend from the station. Sickly looking and smirking like his companion, the malicious gleam in his eyes scared the shit out of him. He pointed to Derek’s back, made an immature gun figure with his fingers and aimed it right at the Alpha. His lips silently popped and then turned back into a grin.

The message was loud and clear.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, taking another step forward but she snapped out of it.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” she murmured as she looked back at him. She gathered her stick from the ground and clutched her helmet tightly. “I can’t do this right now, I can’t, I’m sorry.”

She turned around and darted off toward the school, leaving Derek floored and dismayed. He could have easily run
after her and forced her to talk to him but no progress would come to that. Rethinking about the past few minutes that would have caused her to react like that, he turned around to see what had caught her eye.

All he saw were trees.

Chapter Text


If there was one thing a werewolf hated more than being separated from its pack, it was having its ears yanked and pulled on. Unfortunately for one Scott McCall, his mother knew this very well and was not afraid to use it against him.

“Mom! Mom, stop that, it hurts!” he cried out, struggling against her hold. Another advantage Melissa had was that Scott couldn’t fight back. He was always so scared that he would hurt her so he could barely resist her as she dragged him to the car.

Ignoring her son completely, she kept her grip on his earlobe and pulled even harder, grasping some strands of hair in the process. Scott whimpered, especially when she opened the door to the house and shoved her son inside. As hard as it was, she wanted to wait until she was out of the neighbors’ hearing range. Even though humiliating Scott even more tonight was perfectly acceptable to her, she hardly thought it would help if someone mistook her screaming for abuse and called the sheriff.

“What the hell did you do?” she questioned harshly once the door was locked nice and tight. Scott stood in the foyer, his fingers massaging his ears as he stared at her. For once, he looked scared of his mother and Melissa couldn’t help but feel proud of herself.

“What are you talking about, mom?” he asked in return, confused and bewildered by her sudden change in temperament. He couldn’t remember a time when she was this angry, other than the time she had to pick up him and Stiles at the station after kidnapping Jackson. If anything, she looked angrier than then now.

Melissa crossed her arms, the hostile glare digging into his skin and forcing him to bow his head. Even if Derek had hold over him after he submitted, his mother was still the enforcer in his life and actually scared him shitless. The woman not only knew enough to embarrass Scott to death, she knew his weaknesses.

Hence his sensitive ears, amplified by wolfish instincts and feelings.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Scott,” she snapped. “Were you ever planning to tell me about how you literally ruined your best friend? Did you honestly think I wasn’t going to find out?”

Scott froze in his spot. There were three options he thought about taking while standing under his mother’s intimidating gaze: deny everything, admit everything, or ignore it to ask a different question all together. Because of the pros and cons, he followed through with his last option and hoped she wouldn’t hit him.

“How? How did I find out? Through her father and Derek, Scott; that’s how I found out. We had a little chat after the game,” she answered before he could finish. “Did you even think about them, Scott? Let’s forget the damage done to your best friend – that’s unforgivable enough. Her father though? Did you know he came home and found her wasted that night?”

He had heard this already – from Derek, from Peter, from Allison when she broke up with him yet again. While Allison’s talk hurt and Derek pulled the guilt trip of a year (he completely ignored Peter because he saw him as a hypocrite), his mother topped it off with emotions he never wanted to face from her. Disappointment, shame, anger, disgust… he never wanted to face that with Melissa yet his actions brought him straight to that point.

And all because he lost who he really was in a clique, leaving behind the one person who stuck with him through everything.

Thinking about her words, he wanted to kick himself all over again. The effects of what he and his friends did didn’t register when Derek said the sheriff came home and found Stiles. He didn’t realize that any other day Stiles was already unstable from the trauma she sustained in her life–losing her mother, nearly losing her father, the supernatural bullshit he got her involved with–but when the day she despised the most was supposed to be her best day of the year… he should have known. He should have seen what he and the rest of the pack were doing to her.

He should have seen how much of a time bomb Stiles was, ticking away until she burst from all of the pent up emotions.

Scott knew he failed as a brother and a best friend.

“Aside from her father, what about Derek? Did you think of the man who’s supposed to lead you through all of this? How this would affect him?” Melissa continued, pacing back and forth in front of her son. Her hands gestured recklessly, just like the words spilling from her mouth. “I saw what he did after the game. He went onto the field when everyone else was gone and tried to talk to her. She listened but then she ran from him. She turned away and ran after telling him she was sorry.”

She paused, both in words and movement. She stared at the ground, her hands falling to her side. She breathed in so slowly that Scott could barely see her chest rise and fall, barely hear the swish of air that left her lungs. The sudden change startled him but he waited, knowing she wasn’t finished yet.

When she looked up again, Scott saw tears in her eyes. “You didn’t see either of their faces,” she continued quietly. “Stiles looked like she was ready to cry again. Like she was on the verge of breaking down. She was afraid.

“Derek though… it was a flash to the past for me. It was a look I never wanted to see again, Scott. His expression was the same look John had when Claudia died. It was the same expression I had when your father left.  I’m sure you remember that day well enough so you can picture just how he felt when that happened.”

Melissa looked like she wanted to continue but she shut her mouth, nodded once, and left Scott in the foyer. He listened to her uneven breathing and heavy footsteps before a door slammed. Next came soft sobs and quiet cursing.

All Scott could do was stand there and stare at nothing in particular.


Pulled off to the side of the road, he sat there for hours. Derek was frozen on the curb of the high way, a good twenty feet from his Camaro, completely unmoving and unresponsive to his surroundings. With his head in his hands and his eyes clamped shut, he was oblivious to the world around him.

The downpour had turned his body numb but he needed that. While driving back home from the game, he became claustrophobic in the tiny Camaro. He felt like he was on fire, burning from the inside out and bubbling over the barriers. Derek just needed to get out and cool off, even if it meant being sopping wet again.

He wanted to run after her; God did he ever. He wanted to find out what she meant when she said she couldn’t do this. What was this, anyway? Was she running from him? Had he made a mistake by starting to tell her what she meant to him? Or was she running from something completely different? Was it the pack she didn’t want to see? Maybe he was too much of a reminder for her?

Derek wanted answers but his first theory was right. It was going to take time, if time was allowed. He just had to come up with a different plan of approach.

His phone rang in his pocket, vibrating between his thigh and stomach. The majority of him wanted to let it go into voicemail and look at it later. Thoughts of Cora and Peter filled his mind though and he knew he couldn’t ignore it if it was them. He dug it out from his pocket and looked at the water covered screen. The bright light shined someone else’s name, one he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear or not.

“Hale,” he answered gruffly, knowing the sheriff wouldn’t want any pleasantries if he was right about what he wanted.

“Derek,” John greeted. His tone wasn’t angry like he thought, and he could hear the distant, calm rhythm of his heard in the background. He wasn’t mad so either Stiles said nothing to him or he understood why Derek did what he did.

“Sheriff, what can I help you with?”

“Well.” There was a pause, an awkward one if anyone wanted to ask Derek. He waited patiently, his eyes closed again as drops covered his hair and face. “I think I know the answer but I need to make sure. Have you changed any kids lately?”

Derek’s eyes snapped open, glowing red in the dark. “No I haven’t. I’ve given up on that for now. Why?”

“I’ve got a few teenagers missing… I just needed to make sure because some are from out of my district and there’s only so much I can hide from others.”

Derek shook his head to himself. “No sir, I haven’t. No bodies have been found, right?”

“None. They just disappeared into thin air. Same with that kid, Greenburg; I have a feeling there’s a gang starting in the neighboring city so let me know if you hear or see anything.”

At the mentioning of the dick that harassed Stiles, Derek shot back onto his feet. He told the sheriff he would look out for anything suspicious but in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the way Stiles reacted. Allison said she handled her own against him but did something change…?

“Thanks Derek. That would be very helpful.”

Waiting for a moment, he thought out his words. “How is Stiles?” he finally asked, his tone nearly hushed by the rain. The sheriff only heard his daughter’s name but connected the pieces.

“She’s quiet. Not completely silent but it’s a bit worrying. Melissa told me what happened. I’m sorry Derek.” The alpha found himself nodding to nothing again. He wondered if that was better or worse than having her cry again.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure out something. I refuse to let her go.”

They hung up after goodbyes and Derek shoved the cell phone back into his pocket. He went back to his car and slid in without a second thought, having renewed energy and a reason to get home faster than before.

Stiles might have been the researcher in his pack but Derek was sure he would search until he reached the ends of the earth if it meant finding out what was going on with her.


“Stiles, I’m going to go to work. Do you need something?”

“No dad,” she answered; her voice rough and harsh as she sprawled out in her bed.  Stiles didn’t even try to get out of bed to let her father into the room. She was content with being alone and also, she didn’t need him seeing her tears. That would just be embarrassing.

“Are you sure?”

“Dad, I’m fine,” she insisted. She could hear him shift outside, probably awkwardly against the wall. He did that sometimes. It was weird to Stiles.

“Alright well, call me if you need me. Chances are I’ll be stuck in the office,” he finally said. “I love you Stiles. Try to get some sleep. And great game, kiddo; I’m proud of you.”

He left before Stiles could respond, although she wasn’t sure if she would have or not. She was afraid her voice would break and she would lose control. Knowing the sheriff and how protective he’s become over her after the past few weeks, he would have broken the door down at the first sound of a cry.

Stiles liked her door without footprints, thank you.

She sighed into her pillowcase, trying to regulate her breathing. She had been doing that since she got into her room an hour ago and found that it was more difficult than any other time she had this happened. After seeing Derek, she felt some of the inner peace she had been searching for settle over her mind but when Greenburg and Tommy decided to pop in, it vanished with a vengeance, leaving nothing but panic and fear in its wake.


Tommy, Tommy, Tommy.

Tommy, that boy next door. Tommy, that college kid with hipster glasses and little to no sense of style. Tommy, the guy with a passion to help people and volunteered at the police station in Beacon Hills. Tommy, Stiles’ friend with an adorable, sweet smile that screamed innocence.

What the hell was Tommy going with Greenburg? He was missing. Then again, Greenburg was missing before her father pulled him away from some inner city drug addicted thugs and came back as a very scary son of a bitch. He also knew about the wolves and threatened just about everyone Stiles was close to.

Given that he mime-shot at Derek, Stiles guessed he shared mutual feelings with the dirt bag.

She didn’t understand what was going on. Just when she thought she was finally done with all of this occult business, something bitch slaps her head on and forces her to face reality. Reality being it’s not going away until it destroys her first, apparently. Stiles had tried to research what Greenburg was before but her descriptions were too vague. In the world of Google, mythology described as impossibly attractive, strong, and downright terrifying lead to sites upon sites of movie references and fan-fiction.

In fact, one of those options had been werewolves. Derek would have noticed if rogues were on his territory though, right? He would notice something was off? And if they were, why would Greenburg have something against his own kind?

She let out a whisper-like sob as she shoved her face into the pillow. She felt so lost and confused, not to mention scared. All she wanted was for this to get easier, even just by a smidge. If she knew this was going to happen, she could have waited to break her alliance even if it hurt her to do so.

Despite not knowing if they would help her in the first place.

There were no hints that Greenburg would still bother her anyway. She was a loner at this point; her only defense being sarcasm and a oblivious side kick that had no idea just how much shit Stiles was buried beneath.

When her chest started to constrict and her lungs burned, her eyes flashed open and she was off her stomach in seconds. Her entire body shook as she panted, trying to move off the bed completely but failing miserably. Her fingers curled into the front of her shirt, yanking at the fabric and pulling it away from her skin, as she used her other hand to prop herself between the bed and the night stand. Her legs wobbled almost uncontrollably but she was still able to keep herself upright.

Tears leaked from her eyes faster when the icy feeling started to spread through her veins, from her torso and into her arms and legs. It was only seconds later that her muscles cramped up and her knees gave out. As she feel to the ground, everything changed around her; from fast-forwarding to going slower than dripping syrup, her sense of time was distorted completely.

 Her vision blurred and body fired up, sweat clinging between her skin and clothes. Stiles felt like her heart was going burst through her rib cage she clawed at her shirt, praying that the panic attack would stop soon.

In her mind, all she could picture were bodies. Her father. Parker. Derek. Peter. Allison. The rest of the pack. Gashes lingered over every inch of their bodies, blood coating just about everything, and their eyes were wide with terror and horror.

In the middle, she could see herself.  She caused all of their demises.

Stiles’ eyes connected with the door to the bathroom. The first thought that came to mind was water. She needed water. She didn’t know how she’d get it down if she couldn’t get something as simple as air past her lips but it was an idea. When she tried to crawl though, her vision blurred again and she couldn’t move. Her muscles burned just like her lungs, paralyzing her on the ground.

“Dad,” she cried out through blunt, harsh inhales. Her yelps were choked and useless, just like how calling out was. Her father was long gone by now. For all she knew, he could have already arrived at the station. Too far to help Stiles, that was for sure.

She tried to spot her phone around the room but the haze kept her from finding it. She wept, or wept as much as the panic attack would allow, as she lay on the ground, hoping someone would find her. She was alone though. Stiles had no one.

Not knowing how long she was lying there, trying to breathe in successfully, she blacked out on the carpet.


The punch came without warning. It worked though, Stiles snapped out of whatever had hit her. The sharp pain radiated through her jaw, shocking her eyes open and her spine arched off the floor. She blinked several times, trying to adjust to the light blinding her.

“Stiles! Stiles, come on buddy, wake up!” a distant voice called out. She knew who it was; the name just dangling off the tip of her tongue but incapable of crossing her lips. She wanted to groan in frustration but she found herself incapable of that as well.

“Stiles, your dad is on his way. He called Melissa; she’ll help you. I need you to wake up though, please. Please Stiles, just wake up.”

If she could have, she would have told them to quiet down. She was glad to hear her dad was coming home and that Mrs. McCall was joining him but all she wanted to do was sleep. Stiles was already halfway into slumber when she heard the voice beg again.

“Please Stiles; please.”


“You just found her on the floor?” John asked quietly as she pulled the blanket over Stiles. He tucked her in when Melissa was finished checking her over.

Parker nodded. “She wasn’t answering her phone so I kind of forced my mother to sign me out of the hospital and had her drop me off. She didn’t answer the door so I used the key to get in… when I got up here, she literally just blacked out. I tried to wake her up but then I called you from your phone.”

John looked at him curiously, turning away from his daughter while Melissa wiped her face with a cool rag. “Key? What key?”

The fifteen year old blushed red and shifted on his feet, folding his arms behind his back. “Stiles gave me a key, sir. She said it was for emergencies… something about strange things happening in Beacon Hills, I think. She’s been really stressed for the past few days, Sheriff. I thought maybe the anxiety was getting to her.”

“It’s definitely the stress, John,” Melissa murmured from Stiles’ side. She laid the rag aside and stood to join his side. “I think it finally just all caught up and she couldn’t take it anymore. The last time Stiles had a panic attack that bad was… well you know. I don’t remember her fainting from one for years.”

“She hasn’t,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder softly. The redness in Stiles’ face had gone down and her breathing had slowed to a relaxed pace. She was finally resting, probably for the first time in weeks.

John didn’t know what to think. He knew she was upset after the game, when Derek had tried to talk to her. Melissa had told him what she saw and for the rest of the night, Stiles was unusually quiet, only speaking when necessary. He knew something was wrong yet he still went to work. He should have stayed home and helped his baby girl before something like this happened.

Melissa could see the guilt in his face. “There wouldn’t have been anything you could have done, John. We both know this has been building up and growing. It was only a matter of time. Be thankful it wasn’t somewhere public and that someone got to her in time.”

Parker cleared his throat and looked at the two adults. “Sir? Mrs. McCall? Is Stiles going to be alright?”

Melissa patted John’s shoulder before pulling Parker out of the bedroom. “She’ll be fine, honey. She just needs some rest for now. Come on, I’ll drive you back home. It’s too late to walk and I need to talk to your mom anyways.”

Once they were out of sight and he heard the front door open and shut, John sat next to Stiles on her bed. He thought back to Parker’s words, about the warning Stiles gave him. He knew something was going on with her since he found out about the harassment but never thought it was any more than problems with the wolves.

Stiles wouldn’t have warned a human about the supernatural side of Beacon Hills. He knew she carried a burden because of her knowledge and couldn’t imagine getting anyone else involved, let alone a kid. Even after the whole problem with her English teacher a year ago, she still was reluctant to let him in on the whole secret side of their hometown.

In fact, he had to literally force the truth out of her.

“What are you hiding, Stiles?” he asked her quietly. She merely grumbled in response. “What are you trying to protect everyone from this time?”


The sheriff forced her to take Monday off but Stiles was back in school the day after. John had argued on that because of how Stiles was reacting to everyday formalities: always looking over her shoulder, staring out windows, excessive fidgeting and jumpiness (even with her disorder), and constant nightmares every time she slept. Stiles ignored him though, saying it was nothing.

She refused to tell him. She was supposed to be past all of this. Stiles was not about to get her father involved with even more problems.

Though she hated the idea of school because it meant being around people, she was frightened. She was scared that something would happen if she stayed home, especially to Parker. If Greenburg and Tommy were threatening an alpha, what would stop them from going after a teenage boy? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Somehow she convinced her father she would be alright to drive herself to school. After he pulled away from the house and went to work, she got dressed and ready to leave but not before slipping the kitchen knife she had begun to carry into her jeans. The consequences from getting caught with a weapon didn’t seem so bad if it meant protecting someone she cared about.

Despite her purpose of going only to watch over Parker, she ignored everyone, including the sophomore. She couldn’t help it; in her mind, less contact was better. She distanced herself from everything, even teachers; the only time she talked to someone was if she was asked a question.

It went on for several days. By Friday, Parker decided he had enough of being ignored.

“Stiles! Wait up!” He ran after her out of the school, hoping to catch up before she got into her jeep and left. Thankful that practice had been cancelled because of close by storms, it gave him the chance to find out what was wrong with her. He grabbed her arm when she was in reach and pulled her to stop. “Hey, are you deaf?”

She didn’t turn around. Her shoulders stiffened while the rest of her muscles tightened painfully. Her gaze searched her surroundings for unexpected guests before she spoke. “Not now Parker. Let me go.”

“I need a ride home, Stiles. My dad and mom got called into work and the busses left already,” he lied. His parents were home sleeping but she didn’t need to know that.

“I can’t,” she replied flatly, shaking his grip loose from her wrist. She pulled away completely and started to march to her jeep but Parker skirted around her, forcing her to stop. She looked up at him and tried to put on her most hateful glare. It hurt to do it but she wanted him safe.

“Please,” he begged, ignoring her expression as best as he could. “It’s going to rain and storm. I don’t want to have to walk home in that. I asked some other guys from the team but none of them are going home so they can’t.”

Biting her lip, she sighed. The thought of him walking home alone, on carless streets and woods close by, made her cringe. He’d be in just as much danger if he was with her, maybe even more. She closed her eyes and weighed her options.

“Get in. Don’t get my baby messy,” she muttered and unlocked the heap of metal before tossing her bags in the back. Parker’s face lit up and he hopped into the front seat, placing his back with hers before putting his seatbelt on. When Stiles got in and started the engine, he reached up and turned the heat on full blast to dry them both off from the light drizzle.

Parker waited until they were a good ten minutes into the drive and on the high way heading toward his home. He had to think carefully about what he was going to say so that she didn’t end up kicking him out of her car.

“People are worried about you again,” he finally said. Stiles didn’t react, not right away at least. Her fingers slowly clenched around the steering wheel and her eyes tightened but other than that, she stayed silent. Cursing silently, he tried a different approach. “Okay fine; I’m worried about you, Stiles. You’re ignoring me again.”

“Am I?”

“The last time we spoke, I had a concussion and was trying to punch you awake,” he responded flatly. Stiles bit her lip and blinked slowly. No answer again. “You’re acting different, more so than you did the first time. What happened? Is it because of the panic attack?”

The urge to spill her guts, to admit that everyone around her was in danger, clawed up her throat. She wanted to tell him everything but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t do that, not to Parker. He didn’t deserve to be drawn into her problems.

“Stiles, what caused that panic attack? You were fine after the game. Does it have something to do with that guy that tried to talk to you after the game? Did he hurt you? Did anyone hurt you?”

She inhaled deeply, reigning in her emotions. “Parker,” she warned, her voice low and steady. “Stop asking questions.”

Parker took her silence as a hint that he was going in the right direction. He got a weird feeling from Derek when he saw them talking but he didn’t know what it was about. “Stiles, is he harassing you like Greenburg? Does he know Greenburg? What did he do to make you so quiet and angry?”

A red light came up ahead and Stiles came to a stop. Knowing that this particular light was very long, she turned to him, her glare accusing and betrayed. “Did you really not have a ride or did you lie so you could interrogate me about my business, kid?”

Parker’s face lit up like a Christmas tree under her scrutiny. As well as he was doing before, he couldn’t find it in himself to lie to her again. “I’m just worried about my best friend,” he admitted quietly and quickly, his eyes casted down. Immediately, Stiles’ anger melted into nothing. She removed her seatbelt and leaned over the console, pulling him into a hug. The guilt she had overwhelmed her as she clung to him.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m sorry I worried you. You just have to understand that as much as I want to tell you, I can’t. It’s not something you should have to worry about and I won’t do that to you. Whatever I’m going through, it’s my problem. Mine, no one else’s.”

Before Parker could answer and argue, a loud bang against her stood startled them both. Stiles screamed when she looked forward, seeing a grinning Greenburg crouched on the hood of her jeep.

“Aw,” he cooed. “Isn’t that adorable? Stiles, you really are a martyr.”

“Son of a bitch,” she hissed and went to drive again with the hopes of knocking him off but she was too slow. To stop her plans, Greenburg jumped hard, denting the metal into her engine.

“Time to play, Stiles,” he continued to tease. He curled his fist to break the glass but Stiles beat him to it. Taking the crowbar her dad insisted she keep in the jeep, she smashed the glass, despite Parker’s shouts, and smacked the iron rod into Greenburg’s legs, knocking him over.

“Get out of the car!” she told Parker. She pulled her knife from her jeans and used it to cut the seat belt instead of messing with the lock. Parker hesitated but when she screamed at him again, he was out in seconds with her following behind with a velvet pouch.

Lucky for her, Greenburg was on the other side of her jeep while they climbed out. Unlucky for her, Tommy was waiting for them with a sly grin. Pushing Parker behind her, she grasped the knife tightly, waiting for him to strike toward her. “You bastard,” she spat at him, making Tommy chuckle.

“Aw come on honey. Is that how you greet old friends?” he asked, moving closer to her. She backed Parker up toward the end of the jeep, only to have Greenburg join Tommy’s side.

“She doesn’t have many manners, I think. Stiles’ tends to have a filthy mouth. All that comes out is hopeless threats but they’re pretty violent and vulgar if you get her going,” he added, clicking his tongue condescendingly.

“What a shame. It’s a pretty mouth,” Tommy shrugged. “I think we should just end this now, don’t you think? It’s going to start raining in a few minutes.”

Greenburg nodded and cracked his fingers. “Couldn’t agree more,” he murmured. He was the first to move.

Stiles acted on instinct. Whatever instinct it was, she didn’t know, nor did she want to. As Greenburg lunged toward her, she kicked her leg up, slamming it into his chest with enough pressure to force him back. All within the same motion, she threw the knife at an unsuspecting Tommy before digging her hand into the pouch of Mountain Ash.

“Please,” she said to no one in particular, praying that her plan would work. She closed her eyes and threw the mountain ash up into the air while imagining a safety barrier around her and Parker. When it was silent, she opened her eyes and noticed three things.

First: the mountain ash landed in a complete ring around them.

Second: Greenburg looked out of breath from the kick to the chest. How she managed to force him back with that despite him being as strong as the wolves was beyond her.

Third: a caramel colored woman stood in front of Tommy, whose eyes were about to pop from how wide they were, grasping the knife in front of his face. She had stopped it from hitting his face in midair.

“That was extraordinary for a human,” she murmured. She flicked her wrist and the knife sailed back at her. She pushed Parker down behind her before he could be hurt but the knife ended up grazing her cheek, leaving a somewhat shallow line across the pale flesh before falling to the ground. Stiles winced from the quick stab of pain and could feel the blood run down her cheek but she refused to move under the trio’s gazes.

“Over extraordinary. I’m surprised Hale let you go so easily. If I were him, I would have locked you up somewhere safe.”

“Who are you?” Stiles asked. She could feel the rain drops start to fall and figured Beacon Hills had a radar for when paranormal crap went down, considering every time something happened, the weather turned bad. Must be the actual beacon, she thought.

The woman grinned and Stiles wanted to cry. Beneath her pink lips were two very sharp, very long fangs. They looked deadlier than Derek’s when he was shifted because of the red stain that lingered.

“That’s not from lipstick,” Stiles whispered. The woman cackled at her words, walking closer to Stiles. She stopped a foot away from the barrier.

“Nope, it most certainly is not. Sorry, I was sort of thirsty,” she answered. “As for who I am… I normally don’t tell my identity to my victims but you are a special exception. My name is Jacquelyn.”

“What do you want from me?”

Stiles was just as shocked as the three goons were by how calm and firm her voice was. Inside, she was terrified. What she imagined them to be and what they actually were in reality were completely different. Reality was so much scarier.

“From you? I’ll be honest with you, Miss Stilinski. I want your life,” she answered bluntly, causing Stiles to swallow harshly. “Your life is the key to my success.”

 “Which is?”

“Taking down the Hale Pack and securing their territory. You’re the weakness to the Alpha and his betas. You might have left them but I’m sure they’d come running in a moment’s notice if something happened to you. You’re my trap, Stiles. You should feel proud of being a part of destroying a vermin’s breed.”

Stiles’ heart leapt and she was sure they could all here. “You’re wrong,” she murmured, her voice cracking for the first time. “They won’t run to you because of me. The pack as a whole comes before one person, member or not. They won’t fall for it. If anything, they’ll just kill you.”

Jacquelyn shrugged and placed her hands on her lips, staring her directly in the face. “You might think that but I don’t believe it. Either way, your life is mine to take now.

“I could wait out here until it’s necessary for you two to come out,” she continued after a slight pause. “I would have no problem with that. Drastic weather does nothing to my body like it does to yours. However, we’ve made a mess already and this is a public road. Someone is bound to drive by eventually. Might be too late for your friend when you feel safe enough to come out though; it seems as if he has gone into shock. I’ll leave you for now though, Stiles. Just know that I’m watching every step you make, following you everywhere you go, and counting every breath you take until I make sure your heart has stopped beating.”

Her small speech and threat left Stiles speechless while she turned around, amused by the two humans and their reactions. She looked at the men and grinned. “Take care of her car. It needs a little fixing up, I think.”

Jacquelyn sauntered out of the road and into the trees, leaving Greenburg and Tommy to her jeep. They went straight for the hood and Stiles had to restrain herself from going after them.

“My jeep did nothing to you!” she yelled when she found her voice. They ignored her and tore the hood off before yanking different parts out, including the engine. When they finished their work, they pushed everything off to the side of the road before Tommy pulled out a lighter and dropped it over a few of the parts. Stiles guessed there was fuel leaking by the way the fire engulfed everything loudly, putting a temporary ringing noise in her ears.

“See you later Stiles!” Greenburg sneered while Tommy winked at her. “Should be an exciting meeting next time, don’t you think?”

They followed their leader, leaving Stiles panting and Parker lying on the ground in a daze. When they were out of sight, she picked up her knife and wiped the blood off on her jeans before moving over to Parker and getting him off the ground. With her free hand, she pulled out her phone and called the only number she could think of.

“Stiles?” Allison answered on the first ring. Her voice was thick of worry, which made her wonder if Allison sensed something was wrong. Maybe there was still a bond between them.

Stiles swallowed roughly before speaking.

“Vampires,” she whispered, exhaustion falling over her as she supported her friend up and let all of the details sink in. “I have vampires trying to kill me.”



Chapter Text

As per usual, the Argents came with their usual amount of badass quality. They arrived as quickly as they could, taking about ten minutes to get to where Stiles was from their house. Stiles thought it could have been sooner but then again, she was only hanging on by a thread from losing herself in a panic attack.

The black SUV pulled alongside of her, between the ashen border and the double yellow line. Before it came to a complete stop, the passenger door opened and Allison slid out with the grace of a ballerina. Armed with a loaded crossbow and a calculating gaze, she surveyed her surroundings twirling around completely.

“Clear!” she yelled after seeing every inch and detail. She stopped in front of the border and looked down, finding Stiles rocking on her knees in a puddle and Parker cradled in her lap. The sheriff’s daughter was panting for air, her chest constricting and eyes clamped shut. Every few seconds, a pain filled whimper escaped from her lips as she clung to her unconscious friend.

Allison refrained from gasping at the pathetic sight. She knelt down across from her friend and laid the crossbow at her side. “Stiles,” she whispered, trying to be as comforting as possible. “Stiles, it’s alright. You’re alright, everything is okay now. You’re safe, we’re here now.”

Stiles shook her head, one hand clutching at her throat while the other was wrapped around Parker, holding him tightly to her chest. She kept mumbling about vampires and her dying, how that would hurt her father more than anything. Besides that, she kept apologizing to no one in particular.

“Dad,” Allison called out, unable to think of a way to handle her. “I think she’s hyperventilating, Dad!”

Chris Argent was by her side in seconds. He was also armed, only with a very intimidating semi-automatic instead of arrows, and he didn’t let his guard down as easily as she did. He did a quick scan again and then waved at the car.

Stiles followed his movements with shaky vision, wanting to see who else they brought. Her panic doubled at the thought of it being her father or Derek… any of the wolves, actually. She didn’t want to face them like this, when she was at her weakest point.

Two girls emerged from the backseats of the vehicle, both unfamiliar and strange to Stiles. She had never seen them before – that she was sure of. Stiles knew she would remember two girls with the same shade of cotton candy blue colored hair and bright emerald eyes.

“Is it safe to break the circle? She’s having a panic attack… we need to stop it before she goes unconscious as well.”         

“It’s only mountain ash,” the older girl murmured. “You and your daughter are very capable of stepping over it. Don’t break it though, just in case they come back. Get the boy out though; his energy is too low to sustain this climate much longer.”

Stiles could hear the girl clearly but her lips didn’t match her words. Stiles’ vision clouded even more and she started to feel lightheaded. The world around her was spinning and Stiles was losing control fast.

When Chris bent down to gather Parker in his arms and take him away from her, Stiles reacted automatically. A helpless scream was heard and she fought to get her friend back, despite the heaviness holding her body down.

“Stiles stop it please,” Allison crooned, catching her in her arms and holding her tightly as Chris carried Parker over to the two fairy-like girls. “Parker will be fine. We’re just getting him somewhere warm.”

“No!” she cried out in reply. “No, they’ll kill him. I can’t let them… they can’t kill him, they can’t!” As much as Stiles wanted to fight, she couldn’t find the energy to do it. She went limp in Allison’s arms after a few moments, crying hysterically.

Allison could only be thankful that she was able to breathe now instead of the panic attack they had just barely managed to avoid. She tried to comfort her as much as possible but it was hard because Allison was beginning to feel the seriousness of their current situation.

“We need to get her out here,” she murmured when her father came back to the circle with the younger of the two girls. “She can’t stay out here.”

Though he wanted to do exactly that, the girls had pointed out a good point. “Though I doubt she called her father, we can’t leave here,” he murmured, glancing over at the blazing heap of metal. “Someone has bound to notice that black smoke and Stiles’ jeep is just too risky to let be. If her father shows up, which my bet is he will, he will have heart failure if Stiles isn’t with it.”

“We’ve already called in a call, just to make sure they know. They’re on their way now,” the mystery girl added. Stiles’ attention was caught at the mention of her father and she instantly started to panic.

Allison spoke after she calmed Stiles again, letting the small girl cling to her. “What is the story for this? How can we offer a reasonable explanation for her car being totaled and on fire? And what about the mountain ash? Sure, her father knows about it but what do we tell the others?”

The girl smiled sadly. “A gang of teenagers forced her to crash on the side of the road. It rolled and Stiles was able to climb out, which is how she got the cut on her cheek. They demanded money but she had none on her, so they tore apart the jeep before setting it on fire. The teenagers were in a white four door car with no license plate. As for the mountain ash, once we break the circle, it will wash away with the rain.”

“And Parker?”

“As far as the police are concerned, Parker was never here during the attack. Serleigh is in the back with him pretending to sleep because they both have headaches. If anyone asks why he wasn’t with Stiles, we could say he’s at our house because Stiles wanted to introduce him to Allison. She left to get food and called us after all this happened. Sound reasonable?”

“Enough for the police, not for her father,” Allison muttered as she looked down at Stiles. Stroking her soaked hair absentmindedly, she looked back up at her father. “Can we at least get her into the car? She’s going to catch cold and she’s already drifting in and out.”

Stiles felt her body being transferred from Allison’s arms to another. Stronger, muscular arms cradled her before they started to shuffle her around. In the back of her mind, she knew it was Allison’s father.

“What are we going to tell them if she loses conscious?”

“She fainted from the attack. That’s all.”




Waking up to blurry figures with hazy voices surrounding a person was not the ideal way to start one’s day. Fortunately, being swaddled in thick fleece blankets and fluffy pillows helped mellow Stiles’ anxiety. As she yawned and stretched her arms over her heads, the heaviness covering her body slowly slipped away and stopped distracting her from their words.

            “We need to tell Derek. We can’t do this on our own. Vampires are dangerous, more so than rogue wolves. Two hunters can’t protect Stiles and her friend, not at all times.”

Stiles recognized that as Chris Argent almost instantaneously. It took a minute for his words to seep in before her lips started to stretch into a full blown frown. Tell Derek...? Was he insane? The Alpha would go insane if a bug tried to bite Stiles, let alone a bunch of idiots of the dark.

“Two things, Argent: first, Stiles will never agree to that. If anything, she’ll see this as a reason not to tell Hale. You know that girl will do anything to keep him safe and if it involves endangering herself, then so be it; secondly, we can help you. If you want to help Stiles, you will have us as back up.”

“Two more teenage girls isn’t much help.”

“No but two ancient mages are. Think logically Argent – if anything, we’re more experienced to handle this than you are. We’ve been prepared for this for ages.”

Stiles couldn’t help but want to cry now, despite her comfy, safe habitat. Besides her nightmare about vampires being proved real, mages had been added to the equation, if what this stranger said was true. Why did it have to get worse when she left the pack? Stiles wanted peace, not hell when she made her decision.

"My sister is right. The first vision I had when we were awaken was Miss Stilinski’s face. That was decades, centuries ago. We’re more than prepared to protect her if you are not. Vampires are nothing to us.”

Well, that was sort of comforting to Stiles. She just couldn’t tell whether she should believe them or not. Nor could she remember how to move her lips and talk to ask if she should.

“That may be so but Derek would kill us if we don’t let him know. Right now, it’s safe to say that her safety is his top priority. She can’t be much safer if she has an Alpha and his pack watching over her at all hours.”

A loud, annoyed sigh filled her ears. “But will she want that? Last time I checked, Stiles would rather gouge her eyes out than deal with your pack, Allison. She’s more likely to trust the vampires trying to kill her than them. At least then she knows they would follow their word and kill her quickly.”

“It doesn’t matter what she wants!” Allison cried out in protest. “Her life is at stake and if it means dealing with a little more pain and awkwardness to keep her alive, then so be it. We can handle the consequences of it later, when all of this is done.”       


The four went silent above her, peering down at Stiles as she looked back up at them through lidded eyes. She frowned at Allison especially though she didn’t fail to notice the exotic appearance of the two strangers. Both girls with their sky blue hair and matching eyes, smirked down at her before facing the Argents again.

“See?” the older one murmured with a quiet chuckle. “She’s not about to let it happen.”

Allison pouted at her and then laid a gentle hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “How are you feeling Stiles?”

“Pretty peeved now that I know you are conspiring against my preferences, especially after I called you for help.”

Chris shifted on his feet, crossing his arms across his chest loosely. “Out of desperation, though. You don’t know how to handle any of this, Stiles. I really doubt you can argue against our advice.”

"Yes, out of desperation but only because of the thought of others,” she corrected. With the help of one of the guests, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. “You are also forgetting that I managed to live through a rabid alpha, a kamina, an alpha pack and darach, and a whole lock of other shit without the advice of a hunter. Forgive me for knowing I can take care of myself without you.”

“You only called us because of Parker?”

Stiles nodded. “Parker. My father. You. Derek. It would kind of defeat my purpose of keeping them safe if I get them involved.”

Her statement threw everyone off, even the mages. “You’re the one they threatened through,” the younger said quietly. “You’re the one they want to kill.”

“To get to Derek,” she added. “If they can’t get me, they’ll go after everyone else. If I didn’t know that they would still go after them after they killed me, I would have given myself up immediately. You know that Allison.”

In fact, Allison did know that. Everyone did. Stiles was a twenty-first century martyr with a drop of common sense. She had learned from past mistakes that jumping at the first chance to save everyone without thinking through the consequences was a one-way ticket to hell with no way back. They entire pack was like that.

Or, well, they used to be, anyway.

“Alright I’ll humor you Stilinski,” Chris muttered, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “If you don’t want Derek and his pack involved, what’s your plan? How to you plan to keep this from turning into a blood shed?”

Stiles had plenty of ideas running through her head: running away, hiding out until they got bored, try to bargain. One prominent idea seem to stick out through.

“Well… this also plays into why I called you,” she answered, watching Allison and her father’s faces. They waited patiently to see what she would say next and when Stiles thought she had everyone’s attention, she continued. “I want you to train me and teach me how to fight. I want to know how to kill a vampire.” 

Chapter Text

The first answer Chris gave was no. That no turned into no, absolutely not. Next came the never in a million years. Stiles guessed Allison would have added hell no if her father wasn’t standing right next to her.

She could only imagine what Derek might say if he was a part of their discussion. She could imagine the language would not be pretty at all.

“Why not?” one of the girls asked. A playful smirk lingered on her lips as she thought of the idea of Stiles being a huntress. “She’s more than capable. She already knows how to fight – she just needs to learn how to use a weapon. From what I gathered, she knows how to use a gun. Show her how to maneuver a stake, Argent.”

“She’s a child, Serleigh! I’m not teaching her how to kill. It’s bad enough she’s involved with this at all.”

Stiles grumbled under her breath. She hated that her humanity and age were thrown in her face. She would like to say that she was no different from the rest of the group. Stiles might even argue that she handles problems like this better than the others.

“Um… didn’t she just turn eighteen?”

That was the last straw for Mr. Argent. He stopped out of the room, rambling about how he wouldn’t allow it. The girl, Serleigh, followed him, continuing to badger him about Stiles and her promise. Allison looked at Stiles guiltily before leaving to chase after her father, leaving Stiles with the other strange girl. They stared at each other steadily for a few moments.

“Well, I’m with you on this, if that matters at all,” she stated, startling Stiles with her soprano tone. It was so different from her sister’s alto voice, smooth and husky unlike her bell chime likeness. “You should be able to defend yourself without having to rely on people who have hurt you.”

Aside from not even knowing the girl’s name, Stiles was flabbergasted about this girl and her knowledge. Forget the fact of earlier mentions of magic; Stiles wanted to know how she knew anything about her. “Excuse me?” she finally asked, her voice squeaky and high.

Cotton candy grinned and plopped herself down on the couch, right up against Stiles’ side. An arm fell over Stiles’ shoulders and despite the weirdness in the gesture, she was comforted. It was a familiar feeling but she couldn’t place it at all.

“Well, I mean, you’re a strong girl, Stiles. You know how to fight for yourself. Not many people do, honey. Just in the past few weeks, you have had to make the hardest choices, including choosing to leave the people you knew as family behind. It’s impressive and it takes a lot of guts. If you can do that, I think you can handle yourself against a punch of blood suckers.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow as she stared at the girl. “How do you know any of this?”

The girl shrugged. “My sister and I have been… well, watching over you, in a sense. I hope that doesn’t seem creepy or anything. It was for the best, really, and it was basically an order.”

“Who are you again?” Stiles asked as she pulled back to look at her. She tried to focus on her features but nothing was familiar. She didn’t recognize the girl at all.

“Hayley Jay; my older sister is Serleigh, We’re mages from Europe,” she answered lightly. Her cerulean eyes wandered around the room for a second and half before settling back on Stiles’ face with a smile. “I know you have a thing for Derek Hale as well, so I get why you don’t want him involved. Personally, I would do the same thing if I were you, even if it isn’t the smartest choice. You love him though, right? So you want to protect him even if it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

Stiles blushed bright red. She always knew she had a crush on the Alpha but never thought of it in the terms of love. Though, now that Hayley brought it up, she could see how it could be considered love. She was willing to do anything for him. Well, she was until the pack had to go and screw with her head.

When Derek had talked to her out on the field, it was like they were in another universe. Different times, different place, different situations. They were both human, facing normal, everyday problems. Derek was an older college student while Stiles was trying to make it out of high school alive, even if a casket might be a comfier ride. They were in love, the sweetest kind of love that could exist between two healing people; Derek with his family and Stiles with her mother.

Sadly, fate was much crueler and had a sense of humor. Werewolves and vampires and God knows what else wouldn’t exist if it didn’t.

“There! See that?” Hayley exclaimed, startling her back to reality. “That face, it screams that you are in love. It’s so obvious that it amazes me the rest of your pups haven’t noticed before. Of course, they’ve noticed how Derek is around you but not the other way around. Maybe because you’re gifted in hiding your emotions or maybe because they’re just a bunch of stupid mongrels; I don’t know. Anyway, what are you going to do about it, Stilinski?”

Scream it from the top of Mount Everest, that’s what she wanted to do. Of course, Mount Everest was miles upon miles away from her so that wouldn’t do.

“I might tell him after all this is done,” she murmured. In her mind, all she could picture is the two of them together without a care in a world. It was definitely a priceless picture. “I don’t want romance in all of this,” she added. “It’s too cliché and one of us will get hurt if it ends badly.”

“Won’t you still get hurt if you don’t tell him? Both of you will face that what if question, Stiles. The result will be the same either way.”

Stiles narrowed her eyes at Hayley. “Let me guess. You’re an actual psychic?”

Hayley shrugged and tilted her head back. “I prefer the term Seer but you get the idea. I see anything and everything. No obstacles, no changes. I have radio-reception beyond imagination, kid. I see everything after all the random, indecisive decisions. Nothing changes in my head.”

“So you know my future? You know how all of this is going to end?”

Hayley blinked once before sitting up and detaching herself from Stiles. “I see the final result. I don’t see how you’ll get there but I know the result.”

Stiles took a moment to comprehend her words. “Can you tell me how this is going to end? Whether I’m going to live or die?”

Hayley shook her head, looking down slightly. “No,” she answered, suddenly softer and lighter. Stiles asked why and Hayley shook her head again. “You’ll do everything you can to fight your fate if I tell you. It’s better if you don’t know and let it come together naturally.”

Stiles frowned and pulled her body from the cocoon of blankets. She refused to look at Hayley as she got up and left the room. Right before she reached the door, however, Hayley spoke once more.

“Remember flexibility and agility are key! Just let your body do the talking and relax. You’re a natural!”


By the time she found the Argents, she had wandered the house completely and ran into Parker on the way. It was hard to explain to him the unexplainable but somehow she did. She didn’t exactly use the term vampire but it was close enough for now, especially since he fell back to sleep in the middle of her small, monotone speech.

When she did find the Argents though, their moods were quite different than the sleepy sophomore in Allison’s bedroom.

“Christopher has agreed to train you in the basics since you are more than capable of picking up skills. You’re ADHD will help you because of the extra pent up energy so work on that. My sister and I will be in touch,” Serleigh explained carefully as she picked up her stuff and tried to leave. Before she could get halfway through the room, Stiles’ hand shot out and gripped her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Serleigh?” she murmured hesitantly, stopping the mage in her tracks. Serleigh turned to her, looking at her curiously. “Hayley can see the future. She knows my future but can’t tell me. What can you do?”

The question took Serleigh off her game for a second before her facial expression softened. “I’m a tracker, Stiles,” she said. “I can follow any sort of trail, whether it is physical, mental, or imaginative. If it’s established, I can follow it.”

“Is that how you found me?”

Serleigh bit her lip. “No,” she finally answered. “No, Stiles. I found your mother, who led me to you.”

The mage made an escape, leaving Stiles standing in front of the Argents astonished. She would definitely ask more questions whenever she saw the sisters again. She might even make a trip over to Deaton’s for more information on mages.

“So is it true? You’ll help me?” Stiles asked once she focused in again. “You’ll train me so I can defend myself?”         

Chris was hesitant but he still nodded. “Yes but it’ll need you’re full, undivided attention. Time is of major concern so I suggest you call your father, let him know you are safe, and explain that you’ll be staying here for the next few days.”

Stiles was uneasy at the idea of staying with the Argents. Allison picked up this immediately and smiled softly. “None of them will be here Stiles. I’m not so much as pack as I was when you were. They’ll leave us alone.”

Neither Stiles nor Allison’s father heard the whispered hopefully at the end of that.


Five minutes after she got off a very long and tedious phone call with her father, a short but warm shower, and a quick switch into some of Allison’s workout clothes, Stiles found herself in the back yard with a stake. The stake was made of wood and came to a point but that was as far as it goes compared to Hollywood’s portrayal. The tip was coated in diamond, and the grip attached to a brace so it couldn’t be dropped. It was also had a liquid silver core, which Stiles could not comprehend at all. It was heavier than she thought but lighter than expected.

“Can you dance?”

Stiles shook her head. “I try but it turns out looking like I’m a chicken having a seizure.”

Chris smirked and shook his head in amusement. He put her into a delicate, light position before positioning her arm up in the air. “That, believe it or not, will come in handy. You’ll want to move quickly with this. How is your agility and balance?”

“I’m good with agility… balance, on the other hand, not so much.”

“We’ll work on that. You should be a gymnast but the time I’m done with you.”


A gymnast she was not but Stiles was definitely sore and in pain when they finished before dinner. She had bruises blooming across her skin and she had discovered that her body could move in ways that shouldn’t be possible. It was amazing, the things he had her doing. She felt like she was flying or like she was crashing down from the heavens.

Chris Argent was nowhere near gentle with her. She had stopped counting the amount of times he body slammed her into the grass at about fifteen and he was not afraid to hit her with any sort of weapon.

Let it be known that Stiles Stilinski never wanted to be clocked upside her head with a revolver ever again.

“For your first day, you’re excellent,” he murmured as he helped her back into the house. “How are your arms?”

Her arms were the parts of her body that hurt the least. She told him that and he laughed. “Good. I want to see how you’re aim is after we eat and you rest for a bit. Maybe Allison’s gift with archery can rub off on you.”

Stiles watched him like he had grown a thousand other heads and arms. She could barely lift her arms above her shoulders and he wanted her to do archery? Oh hell no.


She cursed to herself when she heard Parker’s panicked voice. Looking up, the sleepy sophomore was terrified as he watched Chris help her. Allison was behind Parker, her hands pulling his shoulders back, but the disheveled teen was unwilling to move.

“Hey kid,” she murmured.

“What happened to you? What did they do to you? What’s going on?”

Stiles bit her tongue to stop the sarcasm from slipping through. She looked over his shoulder at Allison and sighed. “You’re turn. I did it earlier and I’m too peeved to do it now.”

“C’mon Parker,” she whispered, tugging him out of the doorway. While Allison took him into one of the spare rooms, Chris aided Stiles into the kitchen to sit at the island. He left her be for a moment to get her ice water and something to eat. During her time alone, she couldn’t wait until this was over with. How was she supposed to train this hard if she had a rough time doing laps during lacrosse?


Monday was pure evil. Not just for Stiles, who felt like a truck hit her, backed up over her, before running her over again, but also for the pack. The moment she got out of the car with Allison, each of the wolves could smell the pain radiating off of her. They searched the parking lot for her and froze when they saw Allison helping her to the side walk.

“What the…” Jackson trailed off, the first to speak out of the pack. The rest of them were horrified to the point of being speechless, Scott and Isaac especially.

“Did… did someone attack her?” Lydia whispered as they walked by. Boyd moved an inch closer, sniffing slightly before wrinkling his nose.

“No. I only smell the Argents on her. But why is she with the Argents? And why does she smell like Chris tried to kill her?”

“There isn’t any blood but some of those bruises are days old. Others are fresh,” Erica muttered, studying them as they walked away. “Chris Argent… what did he do to her?”

Cora, though on the verge of tears, had a theory. “She felt unprotected before, didn’t she? We didn’t make her feel safe. Maybe she went to them for help. Both Allison and Chris are trained in several types of fighting… it’s reasonable to assume that that’s what is going on.”

The other thought about it for a slow moment before nodding. It was beyond reasonable, even understandable. Stiles was human and had no other type of protection.

“She’s carrying weapons, too,” Isaac stated. “Under the back of her shirt, I can see the outline of three arrows with straps. There’s also some kind of dagger on her thigh. The sweatpants cover it up but I can still see it.”

Cora disagreed. “That’s not a dagger. That’s a stake of some kind. The outline is different, even though it’s subtle.”

Scott shook his head and glared at the ground as he pulled out his cellphone. “Derek needs to know though, just in case that isn’t the situation. Even if it is, they have no right. Teaching her to fight gives her the idea that it’s better to fight than run.”

Though the others tried to stop him, he sent the text to the alpha. Scott knew Derek would definitely help her.


“Prepare an arrow,” Chris ordered as he grabbed one of the apples off the bench. “Make sure your core is firm but don’t lock your elbows when you pull back.”

Stiles did as she was told and poised herself to pull back. She waited for further instruction and watched as he juggled the apple in his hand.

“Here’s the thing about vampires. They move like they’re flying. They’re faster than humans and are hard to see. You need to be able to hit one before it’s too late. This is where you need agility and those reflexes we have been working on. You ready?”

Stiles nodded and wrapped her fingers around the string and arrow. Chris nodded back and as fast as possible, he launched the apple into the air, heading south of them. Remembering Hayley’s advice from Friday, she let her instincts take over. Spinning on her heel, she aimed and fired under a few seconds. The arrow sailed at a high speed before puncturing the apple and smashing the fruit to bits in the air.

Her results were amazing for a beginner but as Hayley had said, she was a natural. The training also did wonders for her ADHD. She found that because of the energy channeling, she could focus more without as much medication.

Goodbye Adderall, she thought smugly.

Chris’s ringtone disrupted her thoughts and practice. He answered it on the first set and frowned when the person started talking. They were screaming from what Stiles could tell.

“Can you please stop chewing my ear off?” Argent finally snapped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not purposely hurting you.”

There was a pause with more screaming before he continued. “I don’t know what you’ve heard from them but all I can tell you is that this is for her, no one else. She chose this. I’m not forcing her to do this.”

Stiles deducted that it was either her father or Derek. Since her father knew what was going on, it had to be the alpha. Butterflies burst through her stomach into her chest.

“Derek, calm down. If I wasn’t giving her my best to train her, she wouldn’t be sore and bruised. It’s part of the training.” Pause again. “Why? Because she wants this, Hale. She is more than capable of deciding this on her own. She doesn’t need your permission. She left you remember?”

It even hurt her to hear that. She wondered if Derek felt the same.

“Is she here? Yes; she never leaves,” he muttered though Stiles could tell it was all a joke. “I don’t know if she wants to talk to you? Maybe she doesn’t. I told you I would do my best, didn’t I… Derek, I’m not her father for god’s sake. Neither of us are fit to order her around.”

Tired of hearing the arguing, Stiles dropped her bow and arrow before wobbling over to him. She took the phone out of his hand, despite his conniption fit, and put it to her ear.

“Derek,” she murmured, interrupting his cursing mid-yell. He went silent immediately before whispering her name. That one word made her entire body shiver and shake. It was one of the best feelings she had experienced. “Derek, stop it.”         

“Are you alright? What is he doing to you? Why is the pack telling me you are coming in looking like you got into a fight with a gang? Why are you training with him?”  

She cut him off again with a soothing whisper. “Calm down Derek. Stop and breathe; I’m fine, alright? Chris wasn’t lying. This was my choice and I’m sticking to it. Please don’t try to stop me. I need this.”

He started to protest again but Stiles hung up the phone and left it on the bench. She trembled away from Chris to pick up her bow and arrow before preparing her form with a dedicated expression.



Spring break was lovely for Stiles, in some sort of weird sense. After Easter with her father, the Argents took her up into the mountains to practice. She kept getting better with a stake, as well as with a bow. Allison took time out on her own to make sure she was helping Stiles like her father. It turned into a group effort and not only benefited Stiles now. While Chris was keeping his skills in check, Allison was making herself stronger each time they practiced.

When they returned, people were amazed at the difference in Stiles.

From all the exercise, her body had changed. Her short, lithe figure became toned and firm with muscles. The amount of bruises she got declined and the old ones grew gray and faded. She also improved on her physical activity, amazing Coach and the rest of her team at practice. It was all coming to and it definitely was changing her around.

Stiles learned to ignore the looks she was getting from the pack and stuck by Allison’s side. She had decided it was alright to forgive Allison, especially since she needed the support. She no longer felt guilty being with the hunter while ignoring the rest of the pack.

Serleigh and Hayley had joined the Argents and Stiles on their trip toward the end. Both girls were taking Stiles under their wings, guiding her in the right direction. Stiles learned that each of the girls knew her mother when Claudia was a child. It was amazing that they could tell her stories that no one else could. She even smiled more than usual because of that.

At the end of the day, Parker met up with Stiles and Allison. Though he had avoided her since Friday, he decided it was time to talk. Unfortunately for the girls, Parker wanted answers. Fortunately, he was willing to take half answers.

The Argents decided to give Stiles the night off so Allison dropped her and Parker off at her house. There hadn’t been any more vampire encounters and Stiles more than capable of defending herself now in a quick altercation if need be.

To celebrate, Stiles decided to take Parker out to the movies. Keeping safety in mind, they traveled two cities away. She hadn’t noticed anyone following them so when they got into the city limits, they took their chance and went into the theater to see some new romantic comedy. It was the first carefree night in days, if not weeks.


Derek was out like a light. Exhausted and emotionally drained, he just wanted to sleep. He did just that until his phone went off like a bomb. Several text messages came in and both cellphone and landline were ringing like a fire alarm.

“I’m up!” he growled at the metal contraption before answering. “What?!”

“Derek, get up now!” Allison said anxiously. He could hear her voice waver from being on the verge of tears. “Stiles is in trouble! Hayley… Hayley saw them find her in the city. She’s two hours from here, at a movie theater. They’re going to kill her if we don’t get to her Derek!”

"The alpha was out of his bed and out the door in seconds with her still on the phone. All he could think about was Stiles getting hurt. He couldn’t live if she did. There was no way he could live without her.”


“Well that was just ridiculous,” Stiles murmured as she walked with Parker out of the theater. “He should have never still proposed to her! She cheated and he followed her like a puppy. What kind of example is that?”

Parker laughed at her antics and rolled his eyes. “You realize this is only a movie, right?”

“Still! People look up to movies in our pathetic society. Kids watch this all the freaking time, Parker. They think this stuff is real and happens every day.”

“Then that’s their parents fault Stiles. Calm yourself.”

She didn’t need to. The moment she stepped onto the asphalt, she could tell something was wrong. She froze with her mouth open but no sound came out. Parker repeatedly asked her what was wrong but she was too busy analyzing the parking lot. She zeroed in on her dad’s old car. The faint scent of oil burned the insides of her nostrils. When she looked closer, she could see the hood was partially open and junk littered the side.

She had definitely seen that before.

“Parker, go inside,” she murmured, pressing back into him to push him back.

“Why?” he asked, suddenly panicked. He didn’t need an answer. Jacquelyn was enough reason why when she stepped out.


Chapter Text

"Is that–she’s–that’s the,” Parker stumbled through his words as he trembled in place.
His body refused to move, even when Stiles jammed her fist into his stomach. He only wobbled on the balls of his feet, unaware of anything but Jacquelyn. The grinning monster stared back at him before wiggling her fingers at him.

“Parker!” Stiles snapped as she slammed her body back into his, forcing him to move. “Go! You need to go!”

“I’m not leaving you,” he muttered. Though his voice was strong now, Stiles could see the fear in his eyes as the vampire gazed at them. She wanted to hide him away but Stiles had been careless. She let her guard down and now they were both in trouble.

“She’s not alone Stiles,” he continued. “She wasn’t the last time and she isn’t now. We split up and we both die.”

Stiles hated when someone else was right. She cursed loudly but was silently thankful she had strapped the stake against her thigh and put the gun in her bag. She would be screwed had she not done that.  

“Well the parking lot is too large and spacious to fight her in. I’ll be blindsided if someone else comes along,” she replied anxiously. She kept backing them up until they were on the side walk and closer to the doors. “If we both go back into the theater, we’re trapped.”

“Can’t you call for help?”

“I don’t know how many are hiding,” Stiles muttered. “It could take one person or it could take ten hunters to deal with this.”

“How about running? We can lose them in the city,” he whispered. Stiles thought about it and it seemed pretty good. In the city, there were high buildings. Chris had told her that if she was fighting a vampire, it was best to be somewhere they couldn’t surprise her from above.

“Are you fast?”

He snorted and latched his hand around her wrist. “Fast enough.”

“Direction? East or west?”

“West; it’s more populated than the east end. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

They took off westward, running as fast as they could without falling over their feet. Stiles was glad she had worn her sneakers as she worked to keep going straight while trying to get the stake out of her bag. It was hard but she finally managed to free it and strap it to her wrist by the time they entered a large mass of people. Looking over her shoulder, Stiles glanced around for any sign of vampires. She saw Jacquelyn walking quickly twenty-some feet behind them, weaving in and out of groups to get to them.

She kept in mind Parker’s words about there being more than one vampire following them. Analyzing her situation like Chris taught her to, she studied their surroundings for a way to escape. It was rough; because of modern changes, her chances were slim. Three-quarters down the block, Stiles got some luck with a dirty alleyway. She dragged Parker into it after trying to confuse Jacquelyn by running through many different crowds.

“Now what? They’re going to close us in,” Parker said in a rush. Stiles could nearly taste his panic in the air around him but she forced herself to stay calm. She ignored him for a moment and looked around, trying to find a way up for them. Pulling him deeper into the alleyway, Stiles spotted a ladder above them. It was almost too good to be true but Stiles knew she was being pessimistic.

A loud growl stole her from her musings. Without looking up beforehand, she drew her gun from the bag, aimed, and fired two bullets. They both missed Greenburg, who stalked them at the end of the alleyway. He growled louder in warning and Stiles knew it was time to get out of there.

“Okay, climb onto the dumpster and jump. If you do it hard enough, you should be able to latch onto it. Use your lacrosse skills, kid,” she instructed, pushing him toward the giant bin. Though he looked bewildered, he listened to her and followed through with her directions. It was easy because of his height and strength to get up the ladder. While Stiles was at a disadvantage, she managed fine and heaved herself up. Once up the ladder and onto the fire escape, Stiles told Parker to run like hell.

The whole escape route would have been perfect had not two unknown men meet them on the other side of the building once she and Parker got over the ledge. She pushed his head down before firing the gun directly at them, releasing a spray of bullets. Two hit the right, knocking him off the edge while the second vampire dove, the bullets missing him by inches.

Now is not the time, Stiles, she scolded herself as she surveyed her surroundings.

“Are we stuck up here?”  Parker asked in a panicked voice. Stiles shook her head and pulled him to the right. She pulled her cell from her pocket and tossed it to him.

“No. Call Allison, tell her we’re on the rooftop of the bakery on South Street. Say the word vampires and then hang up. Then call my dad and say the same thing.”

“How are we going to get away? They’re probably around the whole damn building!”

“Parker, calm down please. We can’t both be wired,” Stiles muttered. She didn’t have a real solution to this though. It was either try to run or fight and then run. “Just make the calls. We don’t have much of a choice.”

She could hear the beeping of the buttons when Parker asked in a whisper, “What have you gotten me involved in? Vampires?”

Her heart broke but she tried to keep her mind away from that. As he heard him frantically whispering to an equally frantic Allison, she kept watch, gun and trigger finger poised for movement.

“Bakery on South-”

Parker was cut off when both of them were slammed into the concrete. Stiles groaned but wanted to scream when she saw the cell phone roll out of Parker’s hand and fly over the edge of the building, tumbling toward the ground. Immediately after, she was hauled off the ground before slammed again. She fought against the monster pinning her, the gun firing second and second. She was lucky she different shoot herself but was pleased when the body became dead weight against her. She pushed it off before freezing again. 
Jacquelyn held Parker on his knees, one hand around his neck, nails digging into his skin, with the other leisurely on his shoulder. He was panting, eyes wide with fear as he tried to pull her hand from his throat. He couldn’t breathe at all.

“Stiles, Stiles, Stiles… didn’t I warn you about this? Didn’t I tell you everyone was fair game because you fought back?” the female murmured, her free hand loosely stroking his skin. She clucked her tongue, shaking her head in disappointment. “A shame really; you should have thought this out more. Now you’re new friend is involved. Put the gun down and I might think about keeping him alive.”

She switched it to safety and dropped it all under a minute. Right after, she was grabbed by her biceps, being held by two different men, one of them being Tommy. He nuzzled her neck, making her squirm under his hold.

“Too eager to please, are you?” Jacquelyn questioned. Grinning, she pulled Parker up by the neck and held him in place. She brushed her nose to his jugular, her smirk becoming smugger. “A Positive; my favorite.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson Stiles to show you what happens to people who play with me. Just remember to watch.”

Stiles started to protest but Jacquelyn was quick. She bit down into his neck, blood squirting from the main artery as she held him close. A shriek emitted from Stiles’ mouth as she watched her best friend start to bleed. Jacquelyn pulled away, tearing a chunk of flesh out between her teeth before licking the open wound. She kept her gaze locked with Stiles as the bloody saliva dripped down his torn skin and her chin.

Parker’s widened, terrified eyes never left Stiles as Jacquelyn pulled away. Stiles froze as she watched the vampire push him, letting him wobble of jelly-like legs, before using her foot to nudge him back. Parker stumbled and in the next moment, the back of his ankles hit the ledge. Everything went still except for Parker’s figure as he tumbled over the edge and plummeted toward the ground.

Stiles screamed louder than ever, her lungs carrying the same soprano, shrill, grieving note for what seemed like hours. It came to an end as a growl and before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Stiles managed to free one arm and pull her stake out. She spun, twisting Greenburg’s arm before slamming the stake into the other’s chest.

She fought like hell to get out of their grip and eventually she did. Stiles had slaughtered two vampires before moving onto Greenburg. She wiped the sludge covered stake on her jeans before gripping the handle tightly, poised for his next move. She bared her teeth and when she saw Jacquelyn move behind her, she lunged, swinging wildly.

“Give it up Stiles! You’re cornered with no way out. You are making this more painful than it needs to be!” Jacquelyn called out with a cackle. Stiles hissed and swiped Greenburg across the cheek. He jumped back as the black gunk spilled from the cut.

“Bitch,” he hissed and dove under her arm before locking his hands around her biceps too tightly. He pulled her back into his chest and then Tommy, who Stiles hadn’t even noticed had arrived, positioned himself in front of her. His usual smirk was completely gone and his fangs were bared at her as he snarled.

“The minute we let the Alpha find your body, all hell is going to break loose,” Jacquelyn murmured as she stood by their sides. She watched as Greenburg and Tommy threatened to repeat her actions on Parker to Stiles. “He’ll go insane the minute he sees his pet’s body mutilated and tortured; Hale will be weaker than ever just because he’ll be grieving you. You’re sacrifice will be their end, Stiles.”

“Can we drink from her?” Tommy asked in a soft mutter. “She smells so sweet, so original. Nothing taints it, mistress.”        

Despite her death being right around the corner, Stiles couldn’t help but scoff about Tommy’s name for the vampire. Though she could understand how Jacquelyn had both of them under her spell, the whole term was cliché. Why not something less cheesy?

“Not yet; after she is dead. I may be a predator but I am no monster. Miss Stilinski has done nothing personally to me; therefore I won’t torture her until she is too far gone.”

“Gee, that sounds reassuring,” Stiles snapped. “So because I haven’t pissed you off, I get a quick death? That’s my reward for being a good little human?”

Jacquelyn was bemused as she looked down at the scrawny human. “Would you rather it be slow? Shall I add some entertainment in for the others?”

“No,” she grumbled. “Just…if I’m going to die, let me go out with a bang please. Make me the epic and tragic hero I worshipped as a kid, if you can,” she added, thinking that rambling might stall them until she could formulate another plan. She wanted to survive – for her dad, so he wouldn’t be alone; for Parker, so someone could get his body and bury him because he deserved it; for her mother, because Stiles had promised her she’d live her life the way she wanted; for Derek, so she could finally suck it up and tell him how she felt.

She needed to live. Somehow, she needed to do this.

“Superheroes,” Jacquelyn whispered as she reached over to stroke Stiles’ cheek. Stiles resisted the urge to cringe but in the back of her mind, she couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t panicking more. She had the will to survive and was trying to find a way out, however unlikely, but she had just witnessed her best friend’s murder… she had been responsible.

“Are you sure you are a girl, Stiles?” the vampire continued. “Most little girls prefer princesses or fairies but you… you wanted a cape, right?”

Think Stiles, think! Keep stalling, she thought as her mouth started to ramble. “My mom tried to get me into that stuff but I thought they were pathetic because someone always had to save them. Superheroes didn’t need anyone to take care of them yet a princess did.”

“But a superhero was never killed before you.”

Stiles shook her head vigorously. “Doesn’t have to be from DC or Marvel; biblical and realistic heroes have died after their heroic acts.”

Jacquelyn narrowed her eyes and the snarky grin fell from her lips. “You’re stalling, Stilinski.”

“I have a few things to think over before I die,” Stiles whispered as she watched Tommy move to the side so that Stiles faced Jacquelyn alone. The powerful being brought her hand back, nails sharpened and ready to slice open Stiles throat. Her stalling had failed, leaving Stiles with no plan, no method of escape. She was done for.

“I’ve given you more than enough time since my last visit, Stiles. I’ve been more than generous to you.”

“Don’t I at least get to say goodbye?” All strength was gone, leaving a messy, weak shell of a voice behind. Jacquelyn laughed at her as she curled her fingers to prepare to strike.

“You had your chance, honey. Now close your eyes like a good girl,” the vampire murmured. Stiles did as she was told but it lasted for merely a second before they flew opened again. A howl pierced the sky. One building over, red eyes gleamed and growling had shook the stone.

A fully shifted Alpha leaped over the ledge, right for them.


Jacquelyn ducked and Greenberg let go of her, letting Derek take down both Stiles and Tommy. The alpha nudged Stiles over so that she rolled away from them. It was just in time because Greenburg attacked him from the back, tearing his attention away from Tommy. 

Stiles searched everywhere for her sake to give some advantage but she was stopped when she was kicked in the side of her ribs as she crawled. The force of the blow sent her tumbling and groaning as Jacquelyn stood over her.

“You’re lucky he came. You’re friend, however, isn’t as fortunate,” she hissed before disappearing from Stiles’ sight, only to be replaced by several more. She struggled against the unknown vampires that grappled to get a grip of her. She finally found her stake in the shuffle and did her best to fight her way out. After staking a few, covering herself with theirs and her blood, and tearing her clothes to shred, she was free enough to see most of the remaning creatures try to take Derek down. The Alpha wouldn’t have it though and was throwing them around, left and right and over the side of the building. She helped more by taking down a few until she realized what Jacquelyn had said before. She stopped and looked around, ignoring the fact that Allison and her father had joined the fight.

Jacquelyn was nowhere to be found.

Stiles rushed to the ledge that Parker had fallen over, just in time to see the fanged leader lift her near-dead friend, grin, and disappear into the night. She was frozen as she stared at the puddle of Parker’s blood and Jacquelyn’s red foot prints.

“Stiles!” Arms wrapped around her and tried to pull her away from the ledge but Stiles flipped. She screamed and cried, yelling out Parker’s name. Neither Derek nor the Argents had ever heard a cry so pathetic and sorrowful. It was filled with pain as she kept screaming; her eyes clenched shut and nails scraping over Derek’s arms, trying to get him to release her.

“Please, please stop,” the alpha whispered, wanting to comfort his mate but Stiles couldn’t even hear him. In her mind, all she could see was Jacquelyn biting Parker, her pushing him over, and then taking his body from her.

She had nothing to bury. Nothing to mourn. Stiles would grieve only memories.


Chris Argent had framed yet another crime while Derek drove Stiles home after the girls made sure she was alright. Aside from some major bruising, lots of scrapes and cuts, and some mental damage, she was fine.

The entire car ride was silent. Stiles stared ahead blankly, her face dried of tears and blood, while Derek kept looking over anxiously every few seconds just to make sure she was alright. He had tried to hold her hand or stroke her shoulder but Stiles flinched from the unwarranted contact.

When they arrived back at the Stilinski house, Derek locked the doors, keeping her in before she could get out.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked, hoarse and dry from her fight. It was almost as pathetic as her crying.

“You hid this from me,” Derek murmured. “You didn’t tell me vampires were trying to kill you.”

“It’s not something that comes up in a normal conversation.”

“You haven’t tried to talk to me for weeks, Stiles. You never called me when you found out you needed help. Instead, you went to a bunch of hunters. I could have protected you, Stiles. I could have protected you and Parker.”

Derek didn’t mean it like that. Stiles told herself that over and over that his words weren’t meant to hurt her but they felt like she was being kicked all over again. It was only because she knew it was true. Stiles screwed up for not telling him.

“Derek, let me out.” she bit out through her teeth. Stiles tried to push the memories of Parker’s murder away. “Unlock the doors.”   

“I won’t let them hurt you,” he continued, “but to keep you safe, you need to let me in. I remember what happened and I know it hurt you but you can’t keep me out as well-”

“Let me out now!” she snapped, silencing the alpha. She took his moment of shock to her advantage and leaned over, unlocking the doors, before slipping out of his Camaro. She slammed the door shut and hopped over the ring of mountain ash before leaping into the house.

Derek ran his hands through his hair, pulling and yanking as he groaned in frustration. He had gone about that wrong, especially after Stiles’ night of hell. He hit the steering wheel, hard enough to leave a dent the size of his fist.

“Why? Why did I do that?” he asked himself but his rant was cut off by the intertwined sound of a sob and running water. He recognized the noise as Stiles’ shower, effortlessly remembered because the many times he had to rinse dirt and blood off after she took care of him. The cry was easier to identify because of Stiles’ unique and special voice.

Besides, her cries from before still echoed through his mind. He didn’t want her to cry again.

Derek was out of his car, leaving the door wide open, to jog toward the line. He held his hand out but the shield created from the dust was as strong as ever. Looking around for any tool of help, Derek finally noticed the shed in the neighbor’s backyard. He was in and out with a brook before he swept a break in the circle. He dropped the broom to the side and tested out the free space, finding that his hand glided over with no interference.

He walked into the house and locked the door behind him before going upstairs. He went up faster when he heard glass shatter and the crying become louder. Derek followed the noise to the bathroom next to her room and, out of panic, he pushed it open. Stiles sat in the tub, fully clothed and drenched with water from the shower head, with blood running off her. Her hands covered her eyes as she gasped into her wrists, trying to get oxygen to her lungs but still grieve at the same time.

The alpha followed his instincts. He closed the door, startling her from her position, and got into the tub with her. Gathering Stiles into his arms, he ignored the warm water pulsing on his back and tried to comfort his mate.

“Derek?” she asked in a whisper. “What…?”

“Shh,” he murmured in return, holding his finger against her lips. “I’m here. I won’t leave you again. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Woah has it been like forever. And I feel like shit for going MIA but I hope you'll accept my answer for explanation.

A lot of my readers knew I was going through a lot in the past few months. 'A lot' is an understatement, actually. Pure hell seems to fit a lot better. What I've been dealing with kept me from updating and interacting with you, as well as writing Abandoned in any way. I think for the next chapter I have a page and a half that needs to be scrapped before you guys scrap me. It's affected me socially, emotionally, and mentally. Not easy, I'll admit that. So I'm going to tell you a story about a teenager who is better at acting than she thought.

There was once a girl who loved to write. Since she was little, telling stories was her forte. Sure, her imagination got her into some trouble but she was mischievous. All writers are. However, she was a little bit different. There was a reason for that, too. She came from a broken home, which is fine. Lots of kids go through that. Divorce may as well be as common as Stiles appearing to be a BAMF, good or evil, in our little ole' fandom. However, it's a little less common for a kid in that situation to go from a broken home to having no home at all.

It's a serious problem in the USA, and I'm sure it is in other countries right now as well. People are losing their homes left and right, whether they bought it and were paying off a mortgage, or they were renting their home. Well, this girl was in the latter portion and ended up having to leave. Luckily for her, she had someone take her and her family in until they could get their shit together and return to being normal. That someone turned out to make the whole situation worse until it felt like the family was breaking up. After that month of little slice of hell-flavored cake, she and her family ended up in a homeless shelter.

That girl must have cried more in those 4-5 months than she had before. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say, didn't know what to think.... Didn't know what to write. She couldn't write at ALL. She would stare at the blank Word Document on her old-as-hell laptop for hours, trying to piece the letters together. The most she got was a no, and realized that it wasn't a story. It was her telling herself to give up. If she was losing hope, she was losing inspiration. Once that was gone, she was gone.

Now, don't get too disturbed. A happy ending is in sight.

Thanks to two BFFLs that would tell her she was a crazy ass bitch the entire time though, she didn't. No matter how many times she was kicked, she kept one little drop. That one little drop kept her from losing her mind completely. That little drop blossomed into a miracle on December 31th, 2013.

Though shit was still hard as fuck, she got an idea. That idea turned into Chapter One with a little moon between the words. Chapter One became Chapter Two and so on. It was still hard and there were nights where she still cried herself to sleep but she would return to this novel that she fell in love with. It kept her from losing it and now, which remember was a little itty-bitty drop, is a 63K and still going novel. She's two thirds of the way there.

Three weeks ago, this girl and her family found home again. She's still going with a new start and old friends. She's going strong, writing with her future in mind.

That girl was me. I was homeless. Now I'm not. I'm okay now.

Now, Abandoned is on hold but hopefully you can see why it was so depressing at times and how personal the story really is. Stiles lost her home by being hurt. So was I.

So now I have two things to go from this.

First off! I've been 'alerted' of a possibly plagiarized story. Just to let you guys know, I've talked to the author. While there is a lot of similarities than to be common, I'm fine with this. Fanfiction is a work of art, peeps. Whether this author was inspired or not, that's to her. I support her every which way there is and encourage her to make her story blossom like I have. From what I read, the girl's good. Let's help her out, alright kittens? Don't give her shit for it.

Second, I have a request. Readers and fans alike, I would like to ask a favor. If you know someone who is going though hardships and you are financially able to help, then do it. Be brave enough to step forward and make them feel better. Let them know someone gives a damn because I can 100% guarantee that they feel alone. I did, as did my family and those who were in the shelter with us. So please, find a way to help. Even if it is just listening, do it. It won't hurt you. Hell, you might even feel better afterward. Be their little miracle, guys.

Story wise, I'm going to continue on my original story. I would love to have betas so if you are interested, email me. It's paranormal romance, your specialty ;) I'm hoping to get back to Stiles and Derek in between because I know I left you guys at a terrible spot. I miss Parker terribly!

You guys are amazing, as well, and I love each and every one of you for it.


Chapter Text

Stiles didn’t know whether to be surprised or not that Derek Hale managed yet again to sneak into her house without her noticing. It really shouldn’t; the wolf successfully accomplished to several times before. It was nothing new.

Then again after the past few weeks, especially with her last encounter with him, she never thought he would even try to come near her again. He knew how she felt about wolves.

But… then she was attacked by vampires and let her best friend be killed before they nearly got her.

That’s a lot of agains, she thought bitterly as she leaned into his arms.

“What are you doing here, Hale?” she asked aloud once she calmed down. She was still snuffling and sniffling like a toddler but she could at least talk without having to hiccup every five freaking seconds.

“I heard you,” he answered softly. He pushed her damp hair away from her face and pressed his lips to her forehead. It was soft and gentle, just like his tone with her. Stiles’ eyes drifted closed the minute the contact started. She knew exactly what the werewolf was doing and though she objected heavily, she couldn’t help but accept the fact that he was taking her pain.

“You don’t need to do this,” she murmured.  Stiles turned her head lightly and peeked out through one eye. She watched as the faint black lines rippled through his skin with reminiscent eyes. Stiles could hardly remember Derek ever trying to help her like this. Yeah, he saved her numerous of times but this was a new level of intimacy.             The alpha huffed and glared above her head. “I wasn’t there to keep this from happening to you. Don’t tell me I don’t need to do this because you need it.”      

Stiles shook her head lightly. She didn’t need anything right now except Parker. She thought about their giggles and jokes while watching the movie. Those thoughts lead to thinking about the panic her younger friend started having when Jacquelyn appeared out of nowhere and then to his final moments. The fear in his eyes made Stiles start to cry again and Derek pulled her as close as their surroundings would allow. He folded her up into his lap and tucked her head beneath his chin, gently rocking her soothingly.

Derek figured she was remembering Parker. In the middle of the scuffle with the other blood suckers, Derek had looked up just in time to see that Stiles had witnessed Jacquelyn quite literally tear the kid’s throat apart. After everything Stiles has been through with death, especially the scare with her father and the Darach, he didn’t think it could have gotten much worse.

Derek thought fate just hated him and everyone he loved. It was reasonable as to why they suffered. He was cursed.

“I couldn’t protect him,” she finally whispered through the tears. Derek leaned back too look at her, to meet her gaze and let her see that he was indeed listening to her. “I couldn’t do it. I let her get to him… and now he’s gone.”


“He was only a kid, Derek!” she spat out of frustration. She ran her hand through her hair and yanked at it harshly, pulling the roots as far as they would come without tearing any out. “He was sixteen. He wanted to be an awesome lacrosse player… I was supposed to help him. Parker was supposed to go on to college, become a man with a family, have a life of his own!”


“He was getting ready, you know? He was preparing to go off on his own and live his life. How the hell am I supposed to live with myself knowing I got him killed? I was stupid enough to take him out when I knew they were after me…after us. I knew a bunch of fucking vampires wanted me dead and I ignored it. None of this would have happened if I had just been smart, you know? I keep making ridiculous choices that keep getting me and everyone around me hurt. I’ve created more damage in the past few years than I did in a lifetime before!

“I mean, I nearly got my father fired from the job he loves because I can’t keep my nose out of someone else’s business. I’ve lied to him more than I’d like to admit…then I nearly got him killed because of my psychotic English teacher. What the hell was I even thinking about getting involved in all of this? I already lost my mother and now I nearly end up losing my father too?”

By this point, Stiles was out of Derek’s arms and pacing around the bathroom. She was leaving a trail of water everywhere she went, her clothes dripping and sloshing against her skin. In simple words, Stiles was a mess beyond help.

“It all started when I decided to be an idiot and take Scott out to look in the woods. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been bitten…he wouldn’t have changed...”

“You regret him becoming a werewolf,” Derek murmured as he pushed himself out of the tub. Stiles stopped with her back to him and wiped the tears from her eyes. She could hear a little bit of pain in his voice and knew exactly how he took her words.

“He nearly killed himself, remember? During Jennifer’s escapades, he doused himself with gasoline and nearly turned himself into a firework. The Alpha Pack was going to kill him if he didn’t join… Do you see what I mean?”

“Had I not taken him out and let him get bitten, all of our lives would have been normal. So yeah Derek, I do regret it to some degree,” she whispered and then paused, letting her words sink in. Stiles then looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes softening as she took in his vulnerable expression. “What I don’t regret is you. I realize that had none of this happen, I would have never gotten to know you…I wouldn’t have fallen for you. I can’t regret that at all.”

His eyes widened at her confession. Before she knew what he was up to, Derek had her gathered back in his arms, holding her so tightly and closely that he had lifted her off the ground. On reaction, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck to support herself. His fingers brushed against her back and hips and then her thighs to help hold her up.

Stiles clung to him. She refused to let go; even the thought was depressing and unthinkable. She couldn’t risk sinking further than she already was. Having lost so much, she was ready to cry. Not because that she gave up one of her most protected secrets but that she wasn’t rejected by Derek. If he had turned his back on her, she would have shattered to unfixable pieces. Nothing would be able to bring her back together after that.

But no, that didn’t happen. Instead he was kissing her. Derek was kissing her. Derek Hale, alpha werewolf and protector, was kissing her

What the hell?

Stiles didn’t fight him. Why should she? This was her dream since she finally realized how she felt about him. She wasn’t going to fuck this up. Nope, not happening.             Her fingers curled into his dark hair and pulled him closer, crushing their mouths together. It probably wasn’t the most romantic mood she could have made but Derek seemed to respond well enough to it. His bit her bottom lip and then licked over it, asking her to open, just the slightest bit. Stiles did that, eager to taste him, and so Derek slipped his tongue in.

Her arms and legs tightened around his body as she felt his hand massage the back of her neck. The more she kissed him, the more that sensation became sharper. In the back of her mind, she could imagine his claws sharpening from his nails as he tried not to scratch her.

Deciding to play with him, she wrapped her tongue around his and sucked a little. He groaned in return and the next thing Stiles knew, his hand was slashing down her back, all the way down. There was no pain, only the shredding of her sopping wet clothes. When his hand cupped her ass, every article of clothing was looser, even down to her underwear and bra.

Derek pulled back, his glowing crimson eyes wide with shock, but Stiles shook her head. “Don’t,” she murmured, shaking her head and kissing him again. “Don’t stop. It doesn’t matter.”

Groaning even louder, the alpha sounded more animalistic when the sound slipped through his extended fangs. Stiles found that unbelievably hot and couldn’t find the will to scold herself for being weird. They kissed again and this time, she could feel the fangs brush against her lips and teeth. Shiver slid down her spine, making her curl more into his arms.

He moved back out of the bathroom, peeling off the wet fabric in pieces. Stiles repeatedly adjusted her body each time, never once breaking their kiss. They both knew where this was going and neither was willing to stop. They figured they both needed it after all of this. If it turned out to be a mistake, it wouldn’t be the worst of their problems.

Her back brushed against the warm fleece covers as Derek laid her down on the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows after they separated, her eyes drinking his appearance. He stared back at her, still partially shifted, and stripped of his shirt, tossing it to the side. When it landed, Stiles held out her hand to him and he took it, letting her draw him onto the bed. He climbed over the pile of blankets and settled between her knees.

Stiles was nowhere near being shy about her body in front of him. She didn’t look tense as she lay completely naked, bared of everything. Though, had it been someone other than Derek, she probably would have done everything possible to cover up. Instead, the Alpha gave her relief and relaxation. Even some confidence.

He leaned forward slightly, cupping her cheek, before dragging his hand down her body. It was slow and sensual; Derek made sure to be gentle and stopped right before passing her hips. Looking up at her to make sure this was what she really wanted, Stiles nodded in return and gave him a smile. It was encouraging but Derek could see the sadness behind it. It was utterly heartbreaking.

He slid his hand down further and swiped two fingers over her slit, finding it wet and damp. She was warm against his fingers, which made him smile softly. She inhaled quietly as he moved his slick fingers upward, brushing around her clit. Her eyes drifted closed as he circled it, before pressing against it a little harder. Stiles’ back arched in response and a quiet whimper came from her mouth.

Derek’s fingers moved faster, rubbing her in a strange pattern that seemed to get her breath hitched and rapid. She squirmed under his touch, mewling like a kitten as her fingers curled into the sheets on either side of her. Unable to help himself, Derek leaned over her again and planted his lips back on her, silencing her while he continued to rub away. Her hips jerked upward against him, making it better for both him and her.

 “Off,” she murmured between kisses. For a second, Stiles yanked him forward and deepened their kiss but then pushed him off. “Your pants. Off, now.”

He certainly didn’t procrastinate. The black jeans were off in a second and the next, Derek’s body was parallel to her. His lips moved from hers down to her neck as she reached over to the nightstand, digging blindly through the drawl. Derek knew she found what she was looking for when she made a triumphant noise and moved her hand out. He looked up to see and found a tinfoil square inches from his face. He glanced down at her excited expression, matching it with his own, before taking it and tearing the top off with his teeth. It took him a minute to lean away and roll the condom on but soon enough, Derek was back in his spot, right where Stiles wanted him.

They weren’t patient. They weren’t careful. They weren’t too gentle. It was all a rush, all a blur. This was something they both needed. Derek let out his frustration of being separated and not being able to protect her right on her body while Stiles let out screams of pain and pleasure, caused both by him and not by them.  As his hips rolled into hers, her nails scraped his back, leaving marks against his slightly tanned skin. He could feel the pain just from that one move as he thrust into her, gnawing his nose and mouth into her neck like the animal he seemed to be.

Both of them needed this. Neither could stop.


She slept. He didn’t.

Derek couldn’t find the strength to push himself into going to sleep. Not when his mate was sprawled out on his chest. Completely naked. Smelling exactly of him. He didn’t want to miss hearing her soft snore or taking the chance to play with her hair without her knowing. He wanted to see how beautiful she looked with her head on his shoulder. It was absolutely beautiful.

He never heard the sheriff come in. He was too busy focusing on Stiles to hear his boots on the stairs or the squeak of the door opening. Derek didn’t even notice that the sheriff was staring at them with narrow, leaded eyes that could strike harder than his famous shot gun.

“I didn’t exactly mean this when I told you to fix my daughter, Hale. You’re lucky I know how she feels about you or the walls would match your blood.”

Boy was he lucky that Stiles slept like the dead. And that she was covered up to her shoulders.

Derek yelped and jerked upward but the sheriff frowned more at him. The look on his face made Derek freeze in his gaze, and, werewolf or not, he was scared of the sheriff. “I–I–I can explain!” he whisper-yelled with a slight whine. He hadn’t fully switched back to controlling his instincts yet.

The sheriff shook his head, his hand tightening on the frame of the door. “Don’t bother. Argent called and explained what happened. Just promise me you didn’t take advantage of my daughter after she saw her best friend murdered by a vampire who has been stalking her for too long.”

His hardened tone told Derek that the sheriff was struggling to hold control over his emotions. He doubted he was the sole reason but he definitely was a big part of it now. “No!” He argued, nudging Stiles off to the side a little. “I promise you I wouldn’t. I can even call Peter to come over so he can tell you I’m not lying. It just happened…and it…it needed to. There’s something about my kind and their mates with grief. We deal with it differently than humans and sex can be–”

John groaned and waved his hands. Had the situation not been so dire, he would have laughed about how much Stiles really acted like her father. “I do not want to hear about my daughter’s sex life!” he snapped. “I want both of you downstairs in an hour. We’re going to talk and set boundaries, since you two finally seemed to have fix things. One hour, Hale.”

The door slammed and Stiles still slept. Derek only prayed that the sheriff didn’t have any of the wolf’s bane bullets from Argent like he threatened before.

Chapter Text

That was something Stiles never wanted to go through in her life again. It was bad enough that her father was going into protective-daddy mode but because of Derek’s werewolf status, the threats had more of a graphic nature. She had heard him threaten a wolf before but that was nothing compared to this.

Then again, the sheriff never walked in on his daughter after sex with one either.

It was the longest few hours before he left for work ever. The most awkward as well, because John’s eyes never left Derek. He wouldn’t let them return to her room or be in a room alone. The farthest they got was when he went to the bathroom but even then, the sheriff made sure he finished his business fast.

“This is overkill,” Stiles murmured to herself as she leaned into Derek’s side. She was wrapped up in a blanket, back against the side of the couch, head on his shoulder, and legs draped over his lap. It was the closest she could get without her father going off again. It helped a little that Derek kept his arm around her back, holding her close against him, but she wanted to be closer. Preferably in her bed without her stupid pajamas.

Derek chuckled softly, brushing his nose against her forehead before planting a kiss on it. “That’s because he’s scared,” he replied, pausing only slightly before continuing. “Or disturbed of what we did while he was in the house.”

“Please, he’s a grown man. It was going to happen eventually,” she said with a snort. While her father was gone, she took advantage of the brief moment by reaching up and pulling his face down. Derek went willingly, kissing her with as much passion as he had the previous night. She moaned a little into his mouth, her fingers curling into his short hair.

“God will you two give it a rest?”

Stiles didn’t know how long their lips were attached when the sheriff came back into the room. He looked annoyed and in pain as he stood in his uniform, hand on his gun. Rolling her eyes as she let go of Derek, she leaned back into the couch and Derek’s arm. “Come on Dad.”

“You can wait until I leave. I know you don’t need him that bad,” he argued, tone exasperated.

“Says you.”

He ignored her and looked at Derek, gaze hard. “The only reason you are still here is because I’m going to be gone for a bit. It’s going to be busy with what’s happening. Parker’s parents are organizing search parties for him and I need to be there.”

Stiles was torn between the pain of losing Parker and the fear of something going after her father or Parker’s family. “Dad–”

He held up a hand to stop her. “The Argents are going with us, as well as those two girls and some help Chris called in. We’ll be splitting up so everyone is covered.”

“Take Peter with you,” Derek suggested. “He wants to help.”

The sheriff looked uneasy. “Shouldn’t he be here, with you two?”

A low growl only Stiles could hear came from Derek’s chest. She wondered if it was because he thought he could protect her himself or because he wasn’t used to someone questioning his orders.

“We will be fine. I think Stiles will feel better if you had someone watching you as well.”

That too, Stiles agreed. Peter was a strong wolf.

He left after a little bit of banter, promising he would fix the mountain ash line and then pick up Peter on his way there. Finally, Stiles and Derek were left alone. As soon as the door closed behind her father, Derek yanked her up into his lap, just so that their chests were pressed against each other and she was straddling his lap. Their lips were together and their hands latched onto different body parts, gripping each other as if their lives depended on it. In a way, it was exactly like that.

“You weren’t kidding,” Stiles said breathlessly as she leaned her forehead against his. Derek didn’t stop kissing her, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. Everywhere he could reach. “This is healing. I don’t feel anything. Is that even good?”

She felt a little guilty for all this. Less than twenty four hours ago, she had watched her friend, the closest one she’s had in a long time, be brutally murdered. She had let him be tortured and victimized. Now, she was getting frisky with an alpha and thinking about how cliché this was. How many movies and books had a scene where the main character just saw something tragic and then went and slept with someone? Maybe her life was a motion picture now.

Derek shook his head and pushed her back a little bit. “It’s a form of healing and you shouldn’t feel guilty for this.”

“Right, you can smell my emotions,” she grumbled, sitting back in his lap and letting her fingers linger on his chest. His hands gripped her thighs gently, keeping her in place. “But why? Why should I get to heal? Parker doesn’t.”

Derek thought carefully about his next words. “What happened to Parker wasn’t your fault, Stiles. You tried your best to keep him safe and from what I saw, you fought like hell for him. Yes it shouldn’t have happened but it’s nature. And I can promise what I will find that bitch and get revenge for him; I swear I will. But you… you need to heal. He wouldn’t want you to suffer.”

“It just doesn’t seem fair, you know? Like I shouldn’t be able to when he hasn’t done anything wrong. I’ve messed with the natural order and yet he pays the price.”

Sighing, he pulled her close again. Stiles melted into his chest, her cheek pressed into his collar bone as his fingers ran through her hair. She closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths as a few stray tears dripped from her lashes.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to her, kissing the top of her head every few seconds. “It’ll be okay, Stiles.”


He had taken her back upstairs to sleep more. Well, play and sleep. It was an on and off thing. One minute he had her writhing in the sheets and the next she was asleep. The only time they took a break from either was to eat and get a shower.

Stiles felt bad for it but in a way, this was a distraction. It helped her feel better but Derek kept her mind off Parker. As long as she was focused on him, on his body and on hers, or as long as she was asleep, she wasn’t thinking about what was going outside of her house. She didn’t need to think about what happened to Parker’s body or if his parents would find his remains. He kept her from wondering if Jacquelyn was out there targeting anyone else around her. Her mind was safe then.

When the sun started to set, she rolled onto her side, breathing heavily. Derek slipped out of her and curled himself around her, one muscular arm covering her soft stomach with the other supported her head from under the pillow. He exhaled slowly as he tried to regulate his own lungs. Air blew against her air, causing Stiles to shiver and sigh.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers curling around her side from under her. He kissed her neck before settling down as close as possible. “You’re mine.”

His words made Stiles whimper. She rolled over and curled into his body, pressing up against him as much as she could. Everything about Derek surrounded him. His touch, his smell, his love… Stiles was startled by that. She knew it was crazy but she could basically feel just how much he loved her. She wondered if he could feel the same.

With that thought, she fell asleep in his arms again.


When she woke up again, everything was pitch-black. Derek was still wrapped around her, his grip tight even in his sleep. Stiles struggled to roll over but she finally faced away from him and reached over to her nightstand to get her phone. She flinched when the bright light showed, her eyes adjusting to the sudden change.

“Jesus,” she murmured once she saw the numbers. Three in the morning. It was way too early for any logical reason to leave the bed. She tried to go back to sleep but the growling in her stomach said otherwise. Muttering about how she needed a mini-fridge, she slipped out of bed and used the flashlight on her phone to find his shirt. Not bothering with any other clothes, she padded across her room quietly, trying her best not to wake the sleeping alpha.

Once she was down stairs, she turned on the kitchen light and went straight for the fridge. She decided on a bowl of cereal and pulled a stool over to the counter to sit. It was a quick snack, enough to hold her over until the morning. After she rinsed out the bowl, she decided to go outside for a breath of air.

The minute she opened the door, Stiles was hit with a wave of fresh air. She breathed in differently, inhaling the earthly smells that relaxed her body and mind. She walked out further into the grass, her toes digging into the grass. She didn’t even seem to care that she was stranding in the dark in only Derek’s shirt. It was dark so she doubted anyone could see.

She jumped at the sound of a branch breaking. Looking out into the dark, Stiles could feel the hair on the back of her neck raise but she saw nothing. No shadows, no movement other than the trees in the wind. She told herself to relax because her father had fixed the boundary. Nothing was coming through it.

Wandering back into the house and back upstairs, Stiles left Derek’s shirt on and crawled back into bed. Derek was sleepy but awake, waiting for her with open arms. She curled her body up into his side and kissed him.

“Where did you go?” he asked, his voice groggy and deep.

“I got hungry,” she replied, snuggling into him more. He pushed her away though, making her pout. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

Derek laughed and propped himself up over her, pecking her nose before sliding out of the bed. “No,” he answered. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Her lips formed an ‘O’ as she nodded. “Use the one in the hallway though. I still haven’t cleaned up the glass in mine and I don’t need you getting cut.”

Derek smiled at her before wandering out her door. She couldn’t help but follow him before he disappeared. She didn’t even feel ashamed of it, either. The man had a nice ass. Her man. Derek Hale was hers.

There were more than enough marks on him to prove that, she thought smugly.

Stiles settled back into the bed, cuddling under the blankets. Her legs and feet felt like ice though and she couldn’t get comfortable so she got back up and searched for some pants. Because of her laziness, no pants were clean so she settled for basketball shorts and some knee highs.

As she got into bed, she heard some fumbling out in the hallway. Wrinkling her nose, she crawled to the bottom of the bed and kneeled over the edge, peering into the hallway. “Derek? You okay?”

“Yeah, I just dropped the soap. I’ll be in in a few seconds,” he yelled in reply. She sighed again and scolded herself for acting up. She needed to relax.

That was until a body flew through the fucking window and into her room, landing in a crouch and growling at her.