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Chapter Text

Stiles tapped the song on the radio out on his wheel. He was driving over to the loft for a pack meeting about the new threats that had been popping up in Beacon Hills. Personally Stiles hoped it was fairies, but nobody needed to know that.

Stiles had been afraid that the pack had forgotten him. His calls we unanswered and his texts were ignored and a small part of Stiles feared the worst. But it was all good now. Stiles was invited to the loft, where they would have a discussion about what had been going on in Beacon Hills, and then eat some take out.

Scott would try to stuff more than he should onto his plate, Lydia would wait for Jackson to get her something, Erica would do the same with Boyd, Isaac would desperately try to grab something before it was gone, and Derek would sit there wondering why the hell he had bitten such irritating teenagers.

Stiles let out a laugh, thinking about the ridiculous face Derek would make, scrunching his eye brows together, irritation so clear on his face it would make Stiles smile. He thought of Jackson making some rude comment and of Scott or Erica coming to defend him, forcing Jackson to back down and pout in Lydia's arms.

Everything would be ok. 

...

"What?" Stiles asked, his mind unable to comprehend what he had been told. 

"We.. We think its better of you leave the pack." Scott said clumsily, tripping over his own words so badly he had barely managed to repeat himself.

"Wh.. Why?" Stiles said throat feeling as though it was constricting, suffocating him.

"I.. Its just th.. That.." Scott tried to say only to be cut off by Derek's "We don't want you in the pack." The room was silent as Stiles looked around, watching as the people who he thought were his friends allowed this. Not a single pair of eyes would meet his, none of them able to see at the devastated look on Stiles' face/

"What did I do?" Stiles asked Derek, his voice wobbling with emotions that Stiles struggled to identify.

 "You just aren't worth it Stiles. You're human, and weak. You don't heal, you can't fight, hell half the time you're more of a problem then you are help." Derek looked at him as though Stiles wasn't worth the dirt in the ground.

Stiles looked around at his pack mates, the ones who were supposed to be his friends, his family. Then Stiles looked at Derek. All of his fear, sadness, and hurt, turned bitter in his mouth. He felt anger seep through all of his pain, and quickly overtake him.

"Useless? USELESS?! I HAVE GIVEN MORE TO THIS PACK THEN ANYONE ELSE." Stiles screamed, his rage boiling under his skin, screaming to be let out, for Stiles to reach out and hurt. "HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT. I HAVE THROWN MYSELF INTO BATTLE MORE TIMES THAN I CAN COUNT! I HAVE FOUGHT TOOTH AND NAIL TO PROTECT YOU PEOPLE!"

"We don't need your protection!" Derek snarled, his eyes burning a dark crimson. Stiles' face twisted with even more rage, his eyes dark and furious. "You don't need my protection? That's real fucking funny coming from you." Stiles stared at Derek, remembering all the times he had to save his ass. "I should have left you to die from wolfsbane in the clinic, and I should have left you in that pool to drown." He hissed at Derek. "I hope I never see you again."

And with that, Stiles turned on his heel and walked out, not looking back to see the shock on Derek's face, or the pain on everyone else's.

"They want me gone," thought Stiles bitterly. "Then I'll be gone. Let's see how long they last without me. Who needs them anyway?" But a small part of Stiles whispered in his mind "We do". Stiles shook his head, ignoring that part, because if he confronted it he would realize just how true it was and he didn't dare let himself break down here. Stiles got in his jeep, and left, his heart a shattered mess.

Chapter Text

The drive back to Stiles' house was silent, the radio off and the only noise being the rushing of blood in Stiles' ears. Stiles gripped the wheel of his jeep so hard that his knuckles turned white, drained of blood from clenching his hands in his anger. Stiles drove back to his house, unaware of thew time it took to get there. "Who do they think they are?" Stiles thought bitterly. "i gave them everything I had. I fought and put my life on the line for them. I threw myself into every fight, every battle. I Learned all that I could, researched every problem and creature, found ways to fight and this is what i get? Tossed aside like garbage?"

Stiles pulled into his driveway, his eyes flicking around barely noticing that his father wasn't home, and being silently grateful of it. He was barely holding himself together as is and a fight with his father about being out late was the last thing he needed. Stiles opened the door to his empty house and locked it behind him. He hung up his keys and started to walk upstairs. He made it three steps before he fell apart. Stiles collapsed onto the steps, sobs heaving his body as the receding anger left only pain behind. He curled in on himself, unable to do more than break apart piece by piece. "Why me?" Stiles cried. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Somewhere deep inside of Stiles a voice called out "You didn't do anything. You fought, and bled, and helped in every way you could, and they still threw you away like trash. They don't deserve you!" The voice seethed. "Don't Let them break you Stiles, you are stronger then them. You always have been. Pick yourself up. You are powerful, Little spark, let the world know it.

Stiles listened to the little voice in his head, desperately trying to do as it said. "I can't" Stiles cried, unable to pick himself up as tears streamed down his face. "It hurts so much and I don't know how to make it stop."

"You can make it stop." The voice whispered. "You are so strong, Little Spark. Stronger than you could possibly believe."

"I don't understand," Stiles sobbed "I don't know what you want me to do!"

"Speak with Deaton. The Druid knows more than he lets on. Let him help you. Let him guide you on your journey. Go to him. Go to him now, Little Spark."

Stiles stayed there curled up in a ball, desperately trying to gain control of himself. It came this time, though not without struggle, but he had a purpose, something to do, and that drove Stiles to pick himself up, and wipe away his tears. He walked to the door, snatching his keys off the hook, and stepping outside. He got in his jeep, and twisted the key, hearing it stutter and roll before finally starting. The drive over was quick, and in the time it took to get there the voice in his head whispered sweet words of freedom and hope. "You can get away, be free of this wretched place, escape this town and all those who inhabit it." Stiles found himself agreeing with the voice, wanting to get away from Beacon Hills and the Pack that lived within it.

When Stiles arrived he threw the Jeep into park and walked into the clinic, opening the back door to find Deaton mixing and grinding something in a small bowl. It smelled bitter and sharp and Stiles felt like he was better off not knowing what it was.

"Mr. Stilinski" Deaton greeted him calmly, looking confused as to why Stiles was here so late at night. "What are you doing here?" 

"I was hoping to ask you some questions actually." Stiles said trying for casual, knowing he was probably failing miserably. He could feel how puffy his eyes were from crying and he was sure they were red. "Back when Jackson was still the Kanima, you told me I had something called a spark. I want to know what that means." Deaton gazed at Stiles curiously, taking in his disheveled appearance, and his red face. It was obvious to the man that Stiles had been crying.

"Is there a reason why you are coming me about this now, Stiles?" Deaton asked, keeping tone calm and unaccusing.

Stiles let out a quiet sigh, realizing that Deaton was subtly calling him out. "Yeah, the thing is... I... I need to get away for awhile." Stiles said trying not to stumble over his words, hoping that Deaton would read into the meaning behind them and not ask Stiles to elaborate. He wasn't sure he would be able to without crying again.

"What do you need to get away from Stiles?" Deaton asked, completely wrecking Stiles' silent hope.

"This stupid town," Stiles said, blinking rapidly in an attempt not to cry. "The Pack, my Dad."

Deaton looked at the young man before him, seeing the sadness and pain that he tried to hide. "I myself can't teach you anything, due to the fact that I myself don't have a spark," Deaton said thoughtfully, watching as Stiles deflated, a bit of light going out in his eyes. "But I do know of some who do have them." The light returned and Stiles straightened himself, his shoulders no longer slumped. "I'll have to make a few calls, but I'm sure I can find someone to teach you."

Stiles felt his heart swell with happiness, and a small part of him felt ashamed for being excited to leave his Dad behind. Stiles pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and looked at Deaton. "Thank you Deaton." Stiles said, his voice a bit wobbly with emotion. "It's no problem at all Mr. Stilinski." Deaton said, a small smile resting on his usually neutral face.

Stiles smiled for a moment before his face grew a bit clouded, another question forming in his mind. "You wouldn't happen to have any more Mountain Ash, do you?" Stiles asked, his tone quiet and careful. Deatons' eyebrows rose at the question but he answered the question nonetheless. "Of course I do. Though, may I ask what it is you want with the substance?" Stiles' looked away for a moment, trying to figure out a nice way to say he didn't want any dirty mutts in his room, before finally saying "I'd rather not have the Hale pack anywhere near me." Deaton stared at Stiles for a moment, looking as though he wanted to ask a question but seemed to decide against it. He walked over to a large jar on the shelves and picked it up, pouring a small amount into a container for Stiles. Deaton placed the jar back on his shelves and handed Stiles the small container.

"Thanks Deaton." Stiles said, before turning to walk out the door, but before he could leave he heard Deaton call out to him one last time. 

"Mr. Stilinski, do be careful. Mountain ash is a very powerful substance, and I'd hate to see you get hurt trying to overextend yourself." Stiles looked back at Deaton for a moment before nodding his head, and walking out. As Stiles got in his jeep two things happened. A small bloom of hope grew in Stiles chest, and Deaton picked up his phone to call up some old friends.

Chapter Text

Stiles drove home, not knowing what he was supposed to do while he waited for Deaton to make all of his calls. He would still have to go to school. Have to make sure that his dad didn't realize that something was wrong. He didn't want him stressing out over nothing.

Stiles pulled into his driveway and shut off the jeep. His dad’s cruiser still wasn't in the driveway and Stiles realized that his father was probably avoiding him. After he had told his dad about everything (werewolves, Banshees, the Nogitune,etc ) nothing had been the same. His dad had stopped cracking jokes with him and didn't bother to ask him how his day was anymore. He just watched as his son walked up to his room and left him there, sitting alone.

Stiles stepped out of his jeep and walked inside. The house felt even lonelier without his father home, leaving Stiles feeling even more down. Stiles trudged to his room and flopped down in his chair. Closing his eyes, he let his thoughts run wild. He wondered where Deaton would send him. "Hopefully somewhere warm." Stiles thought out loud to himself. "I really am sick of this place. It’s brought nothing but pain and agony to me. I can’t wait to get out of here."

Stiles opened his eyes and glanced around his room. Scattered about were papers and notes about the supernatural. Evidence of what he had put into the pack. For the first time in years, Stiles felt truly exhausted, down deep in the core of his being. Once again Stiles felt a sharp jab of anger inside, but it quickly wavered and faded away, replaced by grief and a bone deep sadness spread throughout him.

Stiles stood up and stripped out of his clothes, left only in his boxers, and laid down in his bed, welcoming the feeling of its cool sheets on his skin. As Stiles laid there, he tried to think of the last time he had truly slept well, undisturbed by a grumpy alpha coming through his window and demanding answers of how to kill the newest monster of the week. The thoughts of the pack brought forth a sharp pain in Stiles' chest, and tears to his eyes. Stiles curled in on himself, desperate to not cry, to not fall apart, but in the end Stiles was only human, and he quickly dissolved into a sobbing mess. He didn't know how long he laid there, tears streaming down his face, before he finally managed to stop crying. 

Tomorrow is another day. Stiles thought. Maybe it will be better than this one.

***

When Stiles woke up the next morning, he felt as equally exhausted as he felt when he went to bed. Somehow he managed to pull himself out of his bed and into the bathroom. He quickly urinated and after washing his hands he looked at himself in the mirror. Underneath his eyes he had deep bags, and his eyes remained bloodshot from the tears he shed the night before. Stiles looked away from the mirror and decided to brush his teeth and finish getting ready for school. He made quick work of his teeth and grabbed two pills of Adderall and went downstairs.

Stiles grabbed an apple for breakfast and a glass of water to take his Adderall. He took a minute to let his stomach settle from the pills before he ate the apple, quickly eating it. Deciding to forgo any coffee, Stiles grabbed the keys to his jeep and heading out the door.

The drive took only a few moments and soon enough, Stiles was pulling into the school parking lot. Stiles looked out his windows, glancing around the parking lot, looking at the various vehicles and people who surrounded them. Eventually Stiles decided to get out of his jeep and he went to class. His first period was one that Stiles hated with a deep passion, Chemistry with Harris. The man was a monster in his own right, cruel and vindictive in too many ways to be anything else.

He entered the class just as the bell rang and took his seat, pulling out his notes on the class at the same time. Mr. Harris began to teach, but Stiles just tuned him out, unable to focus on the man in front of him, but that wasn't anything new. Stiles rarely had the ability to listen to Harris without wanting to grimace or groan, or make a snide comment. Today however Stiles just looked out the window and let his mind wander wherever it pleased.

Stiles went deep into thought, thinking about last nights events, how it had all played out, how he had acted, how he had felt. Stiles thought he should feel something akin to anger, maybe even disgust, or sadness, but he had no more room in his heart for such things. He had thrown himself into the pack, desperate to please, to obtain for approval from those who surrounded him. In the end though, there was nothing but betrayal waiting for him, and he couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. The way they had all looked at him, too ashamed to face him after what they had done, no Stiles felt no more room in himself for those who couldn't even look him in the eye when they tossed him out like garbage. 

Stiles was snapped out of his thoughts by Mr. Harris speaking to him. "Mr. Stilinski," He began, his voice already an offence to his ears. "Would you mind telling the class what it is that has kept you so thoroughly enticed, that you have ignored all that i have taught you today?" Harris' smug smile irritated Stiles, and for once he didn't have it in him to hold back the nasty comments he had to say.

"I don't know, but its bound to be more interesting than whatever you're spouting off about." Stiles snapped at him, his voice sharp and vindictive. "Honestly, is it possible for you to speak like a normal person or is it in stated in your teaching degree that you have to be the most insufferable prick in the immediate vicinity at all times?"

Mr. Harris' face filled with shock, clearly surprised at the reaction Stiles had given. He quickly shook it off and gave Stiles a dark look. "Congratulations Mr. Stilinski, you have just earned yourself a weeks worth of detention. I'll see you at the end of the day."

Stiles just laughed at that, hard and loud, watching as Harris' face shifted into confusion and then a look of distress when the laughing continued. Finally Stiles finished laughing, and Harris continued the lesson, all the while Stiles resumed where he left off, deep in his thoughts. It was the bell that brought Stiles out of his head again, signalling that first period had ended, and that he needed to pack up. Stiles grabbed his things quickly, ignoring the looks the other students gave him. 

The rest of the day followed the same pattern, Stiles staring off into space, thinking about anything that drifted along his thoughts, and when he was called on  by a teacher, he would let out a careless 'I don't know', or 'I don't care'. Teachers were shocked by this, the drastic change in his attitude a far cry from the diligent and hardworking boy they thought they knew. Yet Stiles still continued, lost in his thoughts. And if some of the Ex-Pack mates saw, well then all the better for them. He had no more energy left to give to them.

***

 School had flown by for Stiles, and he found himself at home, idly watching TV, and enjoying a sandwich when his phone had rang. He had set down his food and muted the TV before answering with a quick "Hello?". It was Deaton who responded.

"Stiles I think I may have some more information regarding your extra curricular learning interests." Deaton said. Leave it to him to say everything other than the word 'magic'. Still, Stiles' heart had leapt when he heard those words. He was quick to respond, saying "That's amazing. What kind of information is it?" he asked, his interest piqued, wondering what exactly Deaton had discovered. Hopefully something good. Deaton was vague once again stating "I believe it would be better if we met in person to discuss this. Are you busy tonight?" Stiles was in fact not busy and quickly said as much. He made plans to go there in an hour, and had given Deaton a polite 'Goodbye' over the phone. As soon as he had hit end call, Stiles jumped out of his seat, excitement blooming in his chest. Stiles decided to finish eating and then shower, wanting to be at his best for this conversation.

Soon enough an hour had passed and Stiles found himself entering Deaton's. "Deaton," he called out once he was inside of the veterinarians building, “where are you?" Stiles eyes flicked across the glass jars on the shelves around him, taking note of their strange colours. He wondered how he had never noticed the strange glowing some of them had.

"Stiles," Deaton said emerging from a room to the right of him, nearly making him jump. "I'm glad you could make it. I managed to make contact with a few of my more supernatural inclined friends. Some of them are looking to take apprentices, to pass on their knowledge and to help shape the future of the supernatural community. You mentioned you wanted to learn and I have a few option for you to choose from." Deaton had layed down a few pieces of paper while he was talking, each of them about a different person. 

Stiles leaned across the veterinarian table to get a better look at the papers, noting that most of the people had words like 'Sorceror', or 'Hedge-Witch' scrawled alongside their names. "These are my options?" Stiles asked Deaton curiously, watching the other man nod. Stiles glanced down at the papers, and began flipping through them for a few moments, before finally settling on a woman by the name of Olivia Draupnir. Beside her name was the word 'Alchemist'. "This one," Stiles said, siding the paper back to Deaton. He quickly glanced at it before saying "Wise choice. She's an excellent alchemist. I'm sure you'll learn plenty."

Stiles heart soared with every word spoken. "When can she take me?" he asked excitedly. "I want to learn as soon as possible!" His chest felt a thousand times lighter

"Hold on a minute Stiles," Deaton said trying to calm him down. "Don't you wish to speak to your father and the pack about this?" He questioned, his eyebrows pulling together in apparent confusion.

Stiles felt like he had just had a bucket of cold water dumped over him. "The Hale pack is of no concern to me anymore, and I no interest in informing them of where I intend to go. As for my father, well I doubt he would care. We haven't been speaking. Too many lies I suppose, and now the time we do spend together is strained and uncomfortable. I think he'd be glad to see me gone." The words felt like ash in Stiles mouth be he knew them to be true.

Deaton nodded thoughtfully as Stiles spoke. He seemed a bit sad to hear of the struggles Stiles faced. "I understand, Stiles. When would you like to leave to begin studying?" Stiles let out a breath he had been holding. He had been a bit afraid that Deaton would not approve of his lack of parental consent, and would inevitably turn him away. It felt nice to know that Deaton still held interest in helping him. "I'd like to get  out of here as soon as possiple. I can't stand to stay in this town anymore."

Once again Deaton nodded. "I can send you tonight." Deaton said. "I suggest you go home and start packing."

Stiles smiled brightly, a small glimmer of happiness in his heart and turned to walk out when a thought occurred to him. Shooting Deaton a questioning look he asked, "Hey Deaton, where are you sending me?"

"Oh of course," Deaton murmured to himself. How had he forgotten? "I'll be sending you to New York. That's where Olivia lives."

Stiles flashed him a grin and walked out, a quick "Thank you" tossed over his shoulder, as he raced home to begin packing.

***

That night Stiles Stilinski left home, leaving behind his phone and the keys to his jeep, as well as a hand written note for his father. It was a simple note saying only "I'm sorry but I had to get out of here. Don't try to find me. I love you, Dad. -Stiles". The note sat on the fridge door for three days before John noticed it, and by then Stiles was long gone, off in New York to begin his training. There was an immediate search party for Stiles, organized by John himself, but there was no trace of the teenager. Fourteen months passed before Stiles returned to Beacon Hills, and by then, he was no longer the skinny defenceless teenager that had left. He was something far more powerful and far more dangerous, and he had a bone to pick with one Derek Hale.

Chapter Text

Stiles watched the "Now Entering Beacon Hills" sign fly by him as he drove. The young spark was in turmoil. Stiles had never wanted to come back here, desperate to leave behind all he had gone through. Yet here he was, back again, fourteen months after he left.

The year and some he had spent away had helped him grow, his magic a strength that thrummed under his skin, buzzing near his fingertips. It could feel his uneasiness at returning, and he could feel it nudging at his mind, comforting him in ways no other could manage. Stiles felt his fingers loosen their grip on the wheel, his knuckles no longer going white from the pressure.

It hadn't even been his idea to come back. Instead it was Deaton who had called him back, asking for help with the Nemeton. It had awoken, and had begun calling to other supernatural creatures, luring them in, good or evil. So Deaton had asked him to come back, help him with a spell to seal away the Nemeton. Stiles had agreed, but he knew he wouldn't be helping Deaton. He had his own ideas of how to deal with the Nemeton, ones that Stiles felt were much better than sealing away the Nemeton.

Now he just hoped he could get it done quickly. Last thing he needed was some nosy wolves getting involved. Stiles took a deep breath, and continued his drive. 'Get in, perform the spell, get out. Simple' Stiles thought. He really hoped he was right.

***

In the time since Stiles had left the pack had become stronger, their training taking a more serious approach, but even with that they were finding it more and more difficult to deal with the influx of the supernatural that had began appearing in Beacon Hills. It had been gradually getting to be too much and they had gone to Deaton to ask why it was happening. He had given them a basic version, the Nemeton was a beacon, and it was calling to the supernatural across all of the country. They had asked what they should do to deal with it, but Deaton had assured them he would have it covered, and that he was going to call in help from an old friend.

Currently the pack was watching a movie, most members attending, save for Scott. Derek was sitting in his own chair, only dimly aware of what was happening in the movie, though he thinks its some Disney movie. It was fairly quiet, and of course that was the point that Scott burst in. Scott was wheezing, which Derek found confusing. Scott no longer had asthma and being a werewolf had its perks, advanced Stamina being one of the many. Just as he was about to ask why Scott had burst in the way he had, Scott opened and nearly yelled out "HE'S BACK!" Before collapsing into a pile on the floor, still wheezing.

Derek was by his beta's side in a split second, grabbing him. Scott shouldn't be wheezing the way he was, and Derek asked "Scott what's going on? Why are you breathing like that?" Scott sat up, his breathing evening out. "I'm fine, I just ran here, but Derek, he's back!" Scott said, his face splitting into a grin, resembling a happy puppy.

Derek's confusion only increased. Why had Scott ran here? "Who's back, Scott?" He asked, fearing that it another monster of the week had turned up. Scott gripped Derek by his arms, his smile still large. "Stiles," he said, still slightly breathless from running. "Who else?"

Derek felt his back go rigid at those words. 'Stiles is back,' Derek thought, his mind steadily shutting down. "Stiles is back," Derek said his voice slow and careful. He turned and looked around, watching the reactions of the pack. Most of them showed looks of surprise, shock, and even a few looks of sadness, no doubt feeling guilty still, even after all this time, but it was Lydia that shocked him. Her face was drawn into a look of pure determination. She was packing her things away quickly, and he watched as she turned to Jackson and said bluntly, "Give me a ride to John's." He voice held no room for argument and Jackson nodded, quickly gathering his keys and the rest of his items.

Lydia strode right up to Scott, pushing Derek back some. She gripped his chin, calmly but with strength and asked him plainly, "Where did you see him?" Scott stuttered out a faint "I-I didn't see him b-but I smelt him, at the coffee shop by Deaton's." Lydia's mouth slipped into a frown, no doubt upset that she still didn't know exactly where to find him. She released Scott's face, and said a short 'thank you', before she reached for her coat.

She had almost stepped out of the open door when Derek finally called after her. "You aren't seriously going to go and see him are you?" Derek asked, sounding completely shocked. Lydia ignored his question and called after Jackson, wanting to know whether or not he was ready to go. Jackson called back saying "Just finished grabbing my stuff, let's go."

Jackson passed Lydia and went to go start his car. As soon as he was out the door Lydia grabbed her jacket, intent on following him out when Derek grabbed her arm. "You are not going to see him, I won't allow it." Derek began his rant, only to be cut off by the sharp slap Lydia struck him with. Her eyes were like fire, full of a rage that even Derek feared.

"You won't allow it?" Lydia hissed, her eyes narrowing into thin little slits, her hands clenching into tight fists. "You won't allow it?!" She said again, her voice much louder. "Do NOT forget yourself Derek. You are not in charge of me! I am not your beta, I am not your minion, and I am certainly not someone you can ORDER AROUND!" Lydia spoke, her voice getting louder and louder until she was screaming at Derek.

"You do not get to tell me what to do Derek Hale! I don't care who you think you are!" Lydia continued, her voice still raised, the other pack members watching in silent horror and Lydia tore Derek apart word by word. "You are a bastard, and you have always known that I thought that what you did to Stiles was wrong, and we both know that if I had been at that meeting and not in a goddamn hospital I would have walked out right then and there along side him!" Finally Lydia stopped, and took a moment to breathe.

"You are not my alpha Derek. You never have been, and you never will. There is only one reason I have continued to come here and that is because I know that Jackson needs someone to be his alpha, and as much as I wish it wasn't, it is you, and I have made my peace with that, but don't you ever order me around, and do not ever touch me again."

Seemingly finished, Lydia grabbed her bag and turned on her heel, leaving a shocked Derek where she was standing before. She paused at the door, and in a voice so much quieter that before, she whispered "I just can't believe you would do that to him, after everything he did for you." And with that piece, she left hopping into Jackson's car and speeding away.

When she was gone Derek pulled himself out of his stupor, and walked back over, dropping into his chair. His mind moved a thousand miles per hour, thoughts of Stiles at the center of it all. Not for the first time since Stiles left Derek found himself questioning whether or not he had made the right decision, if what he had done was fair, and he realized at this moment, that what he had done was horrible, and it terrified Derek. He lifted his eyes and saw the pack staring at him, and after taking a moment to collect himself he called to the saying, "I think we need to talk about Stiles."

Chapter Text

                Lydia drove quickly, just barely pressing the speed limit. She was still furious after her conversation with Derek and The Pack. How could they have treated Stiles like that? And to have done it when she couldn’t defend him, when she was hospitalized, still burned her inside.

                Though the pack knew that she and Stiles were friends, they didn’t know how close they had become. After what had happened with the Nogitsune, Stiles and herself had bonded rapidly. They had healed together, and though they may never be fully healthy, they still could take comfort in the fact that they had each other’s backs. When she had discovered what The Pack had done, she had become so full of rage, that the only way to prevent herself from killing them, had been to cut herself off from them until she had managed to gain some semblance of control over herself.

                Now though, that anger burned once more.

                Lydia pulled into the Stilinski driveway. She knew that John would want to see his son after the months that Stiles had been away. Lydia walked up to the door and rather than knocking, opened the door and entered. During the time that Stiles was gone, Lydia and John had bonded vastly, as they desperately tried to find Stiles’ location. Of course they hadn’t succeeded but they had still tried. The entire pack had tried to find Stiles, right up until John had found out that they were the reason that Stiles had left. Funnily enough, Lydia and John had found out at the same time, from Deaton. They had been at his office asking him if he had a way to track Stiles when he had told them that Stiles had left of his own accord, and had it not been for Johns immediate calming manor, Lydia would have torn Derek apart at that exact second. It was then that John had told Derek to leave and never come back. John had told Derek that if he had the audacity to come here again, John would put a bullet through his skull, no matter what it took.

                “John,” Lydia called out, “Are you in here?” A loud ‘yeah’ was heard coming from the kitchen. Lydia hung her coat up and walked forward making her way to the kitchen. Ever since Stiles had left, and Deaton had told them the reason behind the young man’s disappearance, John had taken much time away from work hoping that if Stiles returned he would see that John was there for him. As she entered she saw John hunched over a bundle of papers. Lydia knew what those papers said. It was everything they had managed to collect about Stiles after he disappeared. From what they knew, Stiles had first traveled to New York but by the time they had found a location, Stiles was already gone. After New York there was nothing but minor sightings, and a few cases of people seeing him.

                “John,” Lydia said slowly to the man, “Stiles is back in town. He is at the motel near the outskirts of town.” John’s body went ridged. He slowly turned his head to Lydia looking at her with wide eyes. “What?” He whispered. “He’s back John. I figured you’d want to go see him as soon as you could.”

                John was up in a second, moving away from the table and towards the front door. He reached a hand out and snatched his keys from the hook before turning to Lydia and asking “Are you coming?”

                Lydia walked past him, and grabbed her coat. “Let’s go see him” She said with confidence.

                After Stiles had driven into the town that was once his home, he felt exhausted. He let out a sigh. “This is why you don’t drive for thirty-six hours straight, you dope.” he mumbled to himself.

                Stiles turned the small white car into the nearest motel, and turned it off, before resting his head on his steering wheel. He took several deep breathes before getting out of the car and walking to the front desk.

                Stiles stood in front of the desk, and rang the bell for service. A young girl, probably no older than sixteen, came rushing to the front to answer the ring of the bell. She had light brown hair, and beautiful blue eyes. Stiles ignored that thought in favor of getting a room. He was tired and needed to lay in a bed.

                “Hi, how can I help you?” The girl said with a peppy tone. “Just a room,” said Stiles quietly. He looked down at his hands as they twitched around with nervous energy.

                “Sure thing,” replied the girl, before reaching for something below the counter. “Your room is number 341. We have an ice machine down the hall, and some soda machines spread about.”

                “Thank you,” Stiles replied, before taking the key being offered to him, and walking off to find his room. He walked down the long hallway passing dozens of rooms before he hit 300. “305, 311, 315, 321,” he rattled off as he grew closer to his room. “Here it is, 341.” Stiles slid the key into the hole, unlocked his room, and stepped inside. The room was nothing special, just a small place with a bathroom, an average sized TV and a twin sized bed. Stiles dumped his bags near the door, took off his shoes and fell onto the bed, letting out a groan. “God it’s been forever since I slept in a bed. People should really mention how terrible not having a hotel room is.” Stiles let his eyes close and began to drift to sleep.

...

                When stiles woke up, it was because of a loud banging on his door. He turned his head and looked at his phone checking the time. He had been asleep for about three hours and it had begun to get dark. Stiles sat up, and took a moment to try to center himself, but the knocking continued until he couldn’t handle it anymore. Stiles got up off the bed and stormed to the door expecting to yell at the person outside. Only when he opened the door to scream at the person he was shocked to find Lydia standing in front of him, and a bit behind her, stood his father.

                The three stood there in silence for a few moments, and it was Lydia who broke the silence first. “Fix your hair, you look like a crazy person.” Stiles realised that his hair was probably a disaster with how he tossed and turned in his sleep. He let out a loud laugh before letting a small smile tug at his lips. “There’s my Lydia. Always the fashion enforcer.” Lydia quickly spoke again. “It’s not fashion, its common knowledge.” Lydia stepped into the little room and glanced around, leaving Stiles and John to talk with each other. Stiles avoided eye contact with his father, letting the awkward silence stretch out before John broke it with quiet words.

                “A note Stiles, a note. That’s all you left for me. A tiny note, telling me not to worry about where you went.” Stiles coughed and then began to speak. “I know and I’m sor-” “Sorry doesn’t fix it Stiles. I was so scared that someone, or hell, even something had taken you. You didn’t even call.” The Sheriff interrupted him. Stiles felt a deep guilt wash over him. He knew that his Dad would wonder where he was, but he didn’t think he had caused him all that much trouble. “I’m sorry. I just needed time to figure something out. I needed to spend some time away from this place.”

                John’s face softened at Stiles’ confession. “Ok but still Stiles. A note?” “I know. I was afraid if I told you in person you would try and stop me. I’m sorry.” John pulled his son in for a hug. “This doesn’t mean that you aren’t in trouble, but I do forgive you. I missed you son.” Stiles wrapped his arms around his father. “I missed you too Dad.”

                After they had pulled away from their hug the duo turned to Lydia, and it was then that Stiles thought to ask an important question. “Hold on. How did you too know I was here?” Lydia answered. “Scott smelled your scent and went to tell The Pack you were back in town.” Stiles’ face took on a sour look at the words ‘The Pack’.  “Why does it matter if they know?” Stiles said bitterly. “It’s not like they care.”

                Lydia winced at that. “You don’t know why you were thrown out of the pack?” Lydia said, aiming for delicate. Stiles was not delicate about the matter. “Because I was weak. They didn’t want a weak little human in their pack so they threw me out.” Lydia was shocked for a moment before replying. “Stiles, The Pack didn’t want you gone. Derek was the one who did. He ordered them to go along with it. He made it so they couldn’t talk to you.” At this admission Stiles’ eyes flared with something dark. “He. Did. WHAT?!”

                Stiles moved before either of them could answer. He grabbed his phone and a coat and stormed out the door pulling his coat on. The Sheriff was the one who talked. “Stiles, where are you going?” He asked trying for commanding an answer only to have it come out as a question. “I’m going to have a little chat with Derek Douche Hale.” With that Stiles’ form began to vanish into a thick dust and blew away. “We have to get to the Hale house quickly.” Lydia said with an urgency. “Why,” said The Sheriff. “It seems like Stiles can handle himself?” Lydia was moving out the door toward The Sheriff’s cruiser. “It’s not Stiles who I’m worried about.” With that Lydia got into the cruiser and ordered The Sheriff in.

Chapter Text

Hey guys and gals of this wonderful website. I'm so sorry for not updating lately but between finals and being under the weather I haven't really had much motivation to do any writing. However finals are almost over and I'm slowly getting oflver this nastly illness that's been bothering me so I should start some more uploads within a 2-3 weeks. Love you all and have a good day!

Chapter Text

Stiles POV

To say Stiles was angry be a literal understatement. What Stiles felt at this moment would be much closer to uncontrollable seething hatred. The tattoos along Stiles' arms and back burned and ached with the intensity that his magic was thrashing inside his body. Stiles was quickly moving along the wind to the unmistakable aura of Derek Hale. His magic swirled and shifted, waiting to be used. And God help whoever it was used against.

...

Lydia POV

Chaos. That was what awaited Lydia Martin and John Stilinski when they finally entered Derek's loft. The first person they saw was Isaac. Isaac who had apparently been tossed aside like a rag doll and landed on the couch. Next there was Allison who had some sort of rope binding her wrists together and her to a chair, and a small crossbow laying a few feet away. Then there was Scott laying on the ground frozen in what appeared to be shock, and Erica, Boyd, and Jackson all held together by a glowing green chain. The last thing Lydia saw however was a very angry Stiles leaning over a fairly injured Derek Hale, his tattoos glowing an array of colours.

Lydia was, in many ways, shocked. To see Stiles in such a state was a surprise to both herself and John. Stiles was, to say the least, a force of nature. He thrummed with barely concealed power that threatened to explode at any given moment. That however did not stop Lydia from marching up to him and giving him a slap. 

"What the actual hell, Stiles?" She said feeling a surprising anger that she did not expect. "The first time we see each other in almost a year and the first thing you do is go beat up Derek? You have got to be kidding me." Stiles looked surprised at the slap and even more surprised at Lydia's reaction. "I..I... I wasn't thinking." He mumbled out sheepishly. Lydia glanced down at Derek who's face had begun to heal but still had quite a few injuries on it. "I'm not going to say I care about this, because, quite frankly, he had it coming, but I think its time to stop. You've done enough damage." Stiles Stared at her for a moment before releasing a sigh. "I guess." He mumbled before stepping away from Derek and raising his arms. His tattoos glowed a tad brighter before the rope binding Allison's arms unwrapped her and the chains binding the three werewolves released and both flew to Stiles before placing themselves onto his skin and fading into smaller tattoo versions of themselves.

With that done, Stiles began to walk towards the door. He had almost made it before a hand grabbed his forearm. "Stiles... I...I" Scott began before he was cut off by Stiles. "Let go of me right now, or else." He growled at the brunette, slapping the other boys arm away. "You knew. You knew all along and you saw how i suffered and you didn't do anything. Where was that 'Best Friend' when i needed it Scott, huh? We were like brothers and you did nothing. I did everything I could. i fought and I suffered, and I did it all for you, because that's what best friends do right? They stand by their friends and do whatever they can to help them? Well where were you Scott? Where were you when I needed you so desperately? Because you certainly weren't there. How could you?" Stiles finished before pausing at the door.

"There is one thing i wonder though." He said turning to look at Allison. "You're human, so why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you do something? Your aren't a beta, hell you aren't even a wolf so why didn't you do something?" Allison did nothing but lower her eyes so she didn't have to look at Stiles. Stiles continued to look at her, a small little spark of pain lying deep in the core of his mind. Then he turned, the look gone. "Fine," He snapped. "Its not like i cared anyway." With that he stormed through the door, his magic swirling around him like mist. A small "You coming?" was tossed over his shoulder at Lydia and his Father.

Lydia threw a small glance back at the looks The Pack held on their faces. Sadness, bitterness, anger, shame. All those and more splayed themselves along their features. She then turned and followed John out the door and left with Stiles.

...

Pack POV

It was totally silent for almost ten minutes after Stiles left the loft. The first to break the silence was Scott, who did nothing more than whimper and the agony that ripped through him at being rejected by Stiles. He could do nothing else but sit there and sob at the pain. After that the rest of the pack began to stand and pull themselves together. Allison went to comfort Scott and held him as he cried. She sat there with him, feeling her own shame consume her. Stiles had been right. She was human and she could have gone against Derek, but she had chose not to. She had choose to allow Derek to hurt Stiles in such and awful way. She felt tears streak down her cheeks and before she knew it she too was sitting there crying beside Scott.

The three betas on the other hand had stood and rushed to their alpha's side. Derek had partially healed by now but he was still pretty badly injured so the three picked him up and moved him to the couch. Jackson remained seated shocked that Lydia had just left him without even checking to see if he was alright. There were dating and she should have cared even if only a little.

Derek had finally begun to come out of his dazed state and pushed the three betas away before sitting up, almost immediately regretting it from the way it made things spin. Stiles had badly injured him and just breathing spread a painful ache through his body. He let out a small groan and stood, glancing at Scott and Allison sitting on the floor crying. "What the hell are you doing?" He growled at the two. "Get up already."

Scott didn't seem to hear him but Allison went stiff at his voice. She carefully released Scott, before standing and turning to him. She had streaks of tears running down her face, but her eyes were filled with something Derek could only identify as pure hatred. "How dare you," She seethed at him. "Do you know anything about what hes feeling?" She snapped viciously. "His best friend hates him! Do you think hes just gonna be able to continue on like nothing happened? Well hes not. So piss off." Derek only rolled his eyes at her little out burst. "Please, Stiles will get over his little hissy fit of 'I'm so angry because my friends didn't talk to me'. It's not like he actually hates Scott."

Allison let out a loud sharp laugh at that. "Hissy fit?" She snorted at him. "You think that was a hissy fit? He just put you on your ass Derek. What he just did was almost kill you. He hates us and i don't blame him. He was in pain and all we did was sit there and watch. He needed us and look at what we did. We threw him away, like we never even cared about him. Like he outlived his usefulness." More tears streamed down Allison's face. "We were supposed to be his friends but all we did was treat him like he was garbage. And I'm the worst of all. I had a choice and I still chose to stand by you even though i knew it would hurt him." Scott let out a little sob and curled in a little tighter on himself. "How could you do that to him Derek? What reason could you have had?" Erica and Isaac had begun to cry at this point and Boyd stood there, shame blatant on his face. Jackson had begun to listen in and seemed to shift uncomfortably at the confessions of Allison, knowing full well he was just as much to blame as the rest of them. "I don't know about the rest of you but right now i can be around Derek anymore." With that she turned and ever so gently helped Scott up and left the loft.

Derek stood there, a look of shock on his face from the lengthy rant of Allison's. He sat back down on the couch and didn't move until Isaac spoke. "Sh...sh...she's right." He sobbed. :"We were supposed to b..be his friend, but all we did was hurt him." He sagged, his whole body shaking with the way he cried. "Isaac..." Began Derek only to be cut off by Boyd. "Don't Derek. What Issac says is true. What we did is what we did and now we need to face up to it." Jackson couldn't believe what Boyd was saying. sure he felt a little bad but that doesn't mean they were bad people. "What the hell are you talking about? It's not our fault that Stilinski couldn't get new friends." Jackson said not caring about the look he got from Isaac. "Shut up," Growled Derek. "Just shut up."

Derek turned and stormed upstairs, not caring that it made him dizzy. He just needed to get away from the pack. It wasn't his fault. He knew it wasn't. His wolf had other ideas though. It howled in agony at what they had done, but Derek didn't care. He wouldn't let it best him. He was The Alpha. He was in control and he wouldn't lose himself. Not over somebody like Stiles. Not ever over someone like Stiles. Derek marched upstairs and stayed there, not caring about his three Betas downstairs, crying and moping. Stiles wasn't special. He didn't need to be treated like it. He didn't like Stiles. He didn't like Stiles. Derek repeated that mantra in his head till sleep finally reached out and claimed him.

Chapter Text

Stiles POV

Stiles' dramatic exit was quickly stopped by his father sharp "Where the hell are you going?". Stiles immediately froze, realizing that he had really not thought about where he was going. Quite frankly he was thinking he was just gonna use his magic to teleport somewhere in the town but now looking back he realized that would be a very bad idea. He doubted that someone would take kindly to him randomly appearing right next to them. 

"Uhh..." Stiles said. "That's what I thought." Said Sheriff Stilinski. "So how about you come home and you, Lydia, and I can have a talk over some coffee?" Stiles nodded followed by a "Yeah sure." John turned to Lydia next and said "You OK with that?" "Of course," Said Lydia, "But you know i only drink tea." John let a small smile tug at his lips. "Of course." John Began walking to the cruiser and Lydia followed close behind taking the two front seats. John turned to Stiles just as he was about to get in and said "Well are you coming or what?" before sitting in the cruiser and starting the car. Stiles smiled and got in the back of the cruiser.

The drive to the Stilinski house was rather uncomfortable and awkward. Stiles knew why. You can't just disappear for ten months and expect everything to be the exact same as when you left. Thankfully the ride only lasted a few minutes and before long the had arrived at the Stilinski home. When the trio walked into the house, the first thing Stiles noticed was the drastic changes that had been made. The wallpaper had been changed, the furniture had been moved, and the biggest difference was the large board in the middle of the kitchen titled in big bold letters 'Stiles'. Along the board was dozens of locations and pictures of Stiles across multiple places. Stiles was frozen where he was, staring at the board, and it was a moment later before John or Lydia realized why Stiles had stopped moving. "Oh, that.." Began John. "That's uhh, well that's something we were doing to find you." John rubbed the back of his neck as he said this looking embarrassed.

"Oh," Stiles whispered. "I didn't realize you were looking so hard." Johns face contorted angrily. "Of course we were looking hard! How could we not?!" John growled angrily. "You're my son. What, did you think I was just gonna sit there twiddling my thumbs while my son was who knows where doing who knows what?!" Stiles lowered his head, shame flushing through his face. "I'm sorry. I just thought you were so busy, you wouldn't have time to worry about me." John's face contorted anger dissipating as he realized that he had, in fact, not been there for Stiles. "I'm sorry." John whispered. "I was so busy I didn't even notice that  you were feeling alone." John pulled Stiles into his arms. "I'm sorry." Stiles and John held each other for a few moments before the silence was broken by Stiles. "Man, how many times are we gonna hug today? This is getting ridiculous." Both John and Stiles let out a laugh at that. "I missed you." Said John. "Me too." Replied Stiles. Lydia Let out a cough and the two pulled apart before turning to her. "As lovely as that is I still have some questions, Stiles." John nodded. "So do I." Together the three sat down at the table.

"So where have you been?" Asked Lydia. "Well originally I went to New York where I started learning magic from one of Deaton's old friends. After a few months there I started travelling around with some friends. We started moving around tracking down magical disturbances across the country. I guess we were kinda a discount Scooby Doo gang." Stiles let out a laugh before continuing. "After a few months of that i returned to Ne York and Deaton's friend taught me some more stuff. I got some tattoos to help focus my magic and after a little while she told me that i had learned all that she could teach me and sent me off." John let out a small sigh and Lydia let out a snort. "In ten months you learned all there was to learn about magic?" She said not believing what Stiles was saying. Stiles let out a small smile. "Yeah i wouldn't believe it either, but that's what she said." Lydia narrowed her eyes. "All right then. I don't fully believe you but I'll put some trust in you about this." John stared for a moment before speaking. "Tell us more," He said. "I don't want a summary, I want to know everything." Stiles took a deep breath. "That's a very long story," He said. "But if you really want to know, I'll tell you." So Stiles began the long story of everything that had happened so far.

...

"Wow." Said John Stilinski after the long story he had heard. "Just wow. I can barely believe it." "Same here." Replied Lydia. It had been a few hours since Stiles began his story and it was now almost 2 in the morning. The trio were not terribly exhausted and John was on the verge of passin out and yet he continued to listen to anythhing Stiles had to say. "So you seriously wiped out an entire vampire nest on your own?" Stiles stirred his coffee, glancing up at his father. "I didn't do it by myself, I had Ace and Misty with me." Stiles had made many friends when he was out in New York learning magic but his best friends were Ace and Misty. Those two had been by his side and fought with  him whenever he needed. them. 'I Should give them a call later,' Stiles thought. 'They are probably wondering what's going on.'

A few moments of silence drifted by before anyone said anything. It was Lydia of course, who said "Well as much as I love a good story, I am in fact incredibly tired and have decided that I will be sleeping here tonight." Lydia turned and began walking upstairs toward the guest room before turning back to the two Stilinski men and saying, "I suggest you both get some rest." With that she continued up the stairs.

John turned to look at Stiles and allowed another moment of comfortable silence to pass by before he said, "She's right you know. We've been awake for quite a while. I think I'm going to bed as well." John stood and placed his mug in the kitchen sink and began to walk to his room with a quiet 'goodnight' to Stiles.

Stiles also stood and began walking down the hallway towards his room, pausing to look at the pictures on the walls. He let his fingers ghost over them before continuing down the hall, eventually coming to the room that was once called his. He took a deep breath and opened the door, surprised to find it exactly as he left it. A small smile tugged at his lips as he sat down on his bed and looked around at the room. Stiles layer down and pulled the covers over himself, closing his eyes and letting sleep reach put and take him.

Chapter Text

Stiles was fighting with everything he had in him. Ace lately off to the side unconscious and Misty stood protectively over him, casting aggressive spells at anything that came within a ten foot radius of him. 

Stiles knew they were running out of time. This vampire nest was massive, and as good as thy were it would only be a matter of time before they become overwhelmed. 

It was supposed to be a simple job. Get in, plant the spell, and get back out before it detonated. Ace had almost been done making the preparations for the spell when a vampire had left from the ceiling and attacked him, slamming his head into the ground. The scream that Misty let out rapidly attracted more vampires and now they were surrounded, vampires slashing at them every side. Now they were fighting for their lives.

"By God's purifying light, feel the sun upon your skin and let it burn the evil from your corrupted soul," Stiles chanted, watching as dozens of the creatures began to scream before bursting into flames and burning away to nothing. Stiles turned, swinging tell large sword, decapitation one of the vampires before moving on. 

He began another chant, the spell almost completed before a vampire grabbed him from behind and slammed him into the wall. His head made a loud Crack when it made contact with the hard surface and he was barely able to lift his head enough to see Misty become overwhelmed, her body still thrashing, desperately trying to inflict whatever pain she could in the creatures around her. 

Stiles let out a blood curdling scream, his body beginning to glow faintly before exploding outwards, a bright light blinding him before he slipped into unconsciousness.

***

Stiles awoke, a spell half formed on his lips before he realized where he was. He let his eyes wander as he breathed, desperately trying to calm himself. He glanced at the knickknacks and objects of oddity around his room. 'His room' Stiles thought. He was in his room and he was safe. He was safe.

Stiles reached his hand out and snatched his phone from the top of his bedside drawer, skimming through his notifications, before he saw the messages. There was several from Misty and one from Ace. The ones from Misty were all different. 'How are things?' or 'Are things going well?' And even a 'How did things go with your father?'. Ace'a was far simpler. A meager 'Are you OK?'. Stiles sent then both a text, not going into details but letting them know he was fine. 

Stiles took another deep breath before standing and walking into the kitchen. There sat his father, reading a news paper and eating a breakfast of mostly burnt eggs and badly cooked bacon. Stiles clicked his tongue in disapproval at the unhealthy meal. His father's eyes flicked upwards and he choked on his coffee. His father composed himyself quickly and said, "How did you sleep?" obviously trying to pry into something. Stiles realized he had most likely been screaming in the night, his nightmares tended to have that effect. Still Stiles said nothing about it and answered the question with a simple "Fine." He let his eyes narrow at the bacon, waiting for his father to realize what it was that he was glaring out. The sheriff looked down at his plate, and stared for a moment before an expression of understanding crossed his face. "Oh this." He said. "Don't worry, it's turkey bacon. Much healthier for you." Stiles nodded before pushing away from the table and grabbing a mug, letting his magic pull out the items for him to make some coffee. He let his mug float away from him, filling with coffee from the pot before having cream and sugar added to it.

All the while John stared at his son, watching how his magic moved, as if it was a part of him and not some foreign ability. Stiles used his magic ashow if he had always had it.

Finally Stiles' coffee was ready and he grabbed the floating mug before sitting down across from his father. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, reading he new message that he had received. Just one from Ace. 'So is the plan still a go?'. Stiles typed out a quick 'Yes' before setting his phone down and taking a long sip of his coffee.

John and Stiles sat like that for almost twenty minutes before one of them said something. Surprisingly it was John who broke the silence. "Stiles, are you going to be returning to high-school?" Stiles glanced up at this question, letting a small smile tug at his face. "Yeah," responded Stiles, "I already have everything set up to head back this week." John nodded his head at that, and the two returned to their silence for another few minutes before John stood up, saying "I have to head to work, but I'll be back in a few hours." John paused for a moment. "Are you going to be here when I get back?" Johns voice held a quiet concern. Stiles nodded, answering with a quick "Yeah I will." With that John was satisfied and left the house.

Stiles picked up his phone, and reread the message Ace had sent. 'The plan' thought Stiles. 'I wonder if it will work.' During Stiles' thinking he had felt his phone vibrate again. He looked down at the device seeing it was another message from Ace. 'Alright, Misty and I will head down immediately. I trust you have everything set up?' Stiles typed his message out. 'Yes, everything is set up. I have a place ready for us. I'll see you in a few days.' Stiles layer his phone down just as Lydia came strutting down the stairs, walking over the the counter and opening a cabinet to reveal a wall of assorted teas. She reached up and grabbed a colourful one with a picture of a split pomegranate on the box. She then turned and pulled out a large metal tea pot out from a lower cabinet and filled it with water, before plugging it in. Finally she turned to him, narrowing her eyes at him before she stated a simple question. "What was the nightmare about?" Stiles glanced up at her before he let out a sigh. "I don't want to talk about it." He said simply. Lydia narrowed her eyes even further. "Tough shit," she said. "Now fess up. What was it about?" Stiles recognized this type of situation. Lydia would press you for information, and no matter what you did, eventually you'd tell her what she wanted to know. He released another sigh. "Fine," Stiles said. "It was about a bad job that Misty, Ace and I went on. It went bad and the three of us almost died." Lydia watched him carefully before saying "What do you mean 'went bad'?" Stiles ground his teeth together, irritated with the questions. "It means that a vampire caught us off guard and almost killed one of us. We barely made it out. Now drop it." Lydia pushed off the counter and leaned across the table, reaching out her hand. She took Stiles in hers and looked him in the eye. "Are you OK?" She asked him simply. Stiles sat there for a moment, almost laughing at the fact that only a year ago he would have lost his mind at the fact that The Lydia Martin was holding his hand. "I'm fine," He saI'd, squeezing her hand. They sat like that for a few moments before it was interrupted by the tea kettle begin to make a loud screeching noise. Lydia stood and turned the electric device off, pouring herself some water and tossing her teabag into the cup. She quickly made herself a cup full of tea, adding honey and sugar, and even a splash of milk. Finally she sat back down across from Stiles, watching him intently. Stiles finally asked her "What are you staring at?" Lydia let out a small laugh before speaking. "You have stubble. Last time I saw you, you had a baby face, untouched by hair." At that Stiles let out a laugh. It felt good to fall into this routine of sass with Lydia. It felt normal. It felt soothing. Finally Lydia looked at him and the two smiled at each other. Suddenly Lydia asked him "Why didn't you ever call?" Stiles froze at that. He felt a ln icy feeling creep up his arms and an unsettling weight sunk in his stomach. Finally he said "I didn't think you cared. I thought you had sided with the pack. They made it seem like everyone had agreed to tossing me out." Lydia reached her hand out again, taking his into hers and running her thumb across the back of his hand in attempt to sooth Stiles. "I'm glad you're back," she said. Stiles smiled. "I'm glad that I'm back too. I missed you and missed you dad." Lydia stood, pulling Stiles up with her and pulled him into a tight hug. "Dont take off on me again," She said. "I need my research buddy." Stiles pulled her closer. "Don't worry," He whispered. "I'm not going anywhere." They stood there holding each other, until both were sure the other was really there and even then they still held one another.

Chapter Text

About thirty minutes after John left Stiles got a phone call. He read the name 'Ace' on the screen before answering. "What's up" He said skipping formalities. "We are in town, waiting on your orders." Ace replied. Stiles walked to the window looking out the blinds. "Already? I didn't think you would arrive for a few hours." Stiles said, closing the blinds quickly. Ace responded " We were just outside the city, waiting on your orders. Where do you want to meet?" Stiles thought for a minute. "Meet me at the Beacon Hills High. We need to enroll you into school so we can begin phase one." Stiles said. "Understood. We will meet you there." Ace replied. Stiles hung up the phone and took a deep breath. It was happening. It took months of studying and prep but it was finally happening. Stiles used a small teleportation spell to bring himself to the hotel where his car was parked so he would have. A better form of transportation. It would be needed if he this was an del going to work. He just hoped the pack wouldn't get in the way.

***

Stiles drove to the school, his mind a sea of conflict. He knew he shouldn't get close to his friends and family again. It was probable that he would die completing this mission. But it has to be done and there was no one else that could complete it.

Finally he arrived, and looked at the school, looming almost ominously over him. There were so many bad memories. Getting trapped woth Peter, the Darach. It seemed almost unreal to be back here. Still. Stiles got out of the car and waited for Ace and Misty to arrive. It was only a few moments before the pulled up in a sleek red McLaren. Stiles sighed, seeing that it was Misty who drove. After they had parked Stiles walked the vehicle and waited until they stepped out.

"You couldn't have picked something less inconspicuous?" Stiles asked, exasperated. Misty only let out a small laugh. "Where would the fun be in that huh?" And with that she begun walking towards the school. Ace quickly followed after giving Stiles a nod of acknowledgement, and finally Stiles walked after them.

They entered the small building and approached the office, where they found a young woman waiting for them.

"Are you three Stiles, Ace, and Misty?" She asked before receiving nods from all of them. "Come this way please," she said. "We have your meeting all set up." The three followed the young lady into a somewhat parents office where they were all seated. Not too long after that a man in his late forties walked in and sat in front of them.

"Good morning you three. I understand that two of you wish to enroll, while the third is returning?" They all gave various forms of agreement. "All right then. So who is returning?" Stiles Gave a flick of his hand at that. "All right. Mr...?" He questioned. "Stilinski," Stiles said. "Stiles Stilinski." The man's eyes widened at that. "The sheriff's boy?" Stiles nodded. "The one and only." The man shook off his stupor and handed Stiles a sheet that read 'returning' while he gave different ones to Ace and Misty that read 'Enrollment'. "Just fill those out and we can have you in classes by tomorrow morning." The man said sitting back in his chair. Stiles winced. He had forgotten that today was Sunday. Still he spoke. "Of course. Anything else?" He asked. The man shook his head and sent them off to do their paperwork. It took only twenty minutes and after that they left. Once they left Ace spoke. "Phase one has begun. Do you think there will be any complications?" He asked. Stiles stood silently for a moment. "I'm not sure," He said. "But knowing our luck there will be." Once that conversation was over, Ace and Misty updated him on their locations and where they were staying and they all parted ways.

Stiles drove home, contemplating. He hoped this plan would work, because if they didn't there was a very solid chance of the apocalypse starting.

***

Chapter Text

Stiles awoke the next day, feeling equally as exhausted as he would if he hadn't slept at all. The dreams had become worse and now Stiles wasn't sure if they were nightmares or visions. He pressed his palms to his eyes and thought hard, fighting to remember the details. Fire rained from the sky, his lungs choking on the ash that suffocated him. He tried to reach for the body in front of him, knowing that there was no time. So close, so close. 

Stiles took a deep breath, pulling his hands away from his eyes. He couldn't let that come true. He couldn't let that happen. He stripped out of bed. Dressing himself quickly, feeling glad that he had showered the night before. He knew that being back in Beacon Hill High wouldn't be fun. Especially after he had disappeared for almost a year. There would be nasty rumors spread around about him, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the plan.

Stiles left his room, grabbing himself some fruit to munch on while he drove to school. He drove, his mind wandering slightly. He would have to avoid the pack. No doubt they would either react with aggression or some form of apology. He needed to be cold hearted about this. There was no more time for friendship. Not with the destruction of everything he knew looming over his head like a sacrificial sword. Stiles pulled into the parking lot, seeing Ace and Misty waiting for him. 'Good' he thought. 'This will make things easier.' Together the three of them stepped through the doors. Immediately whispers began. Some of 'look at those tattoos...' and some 'Oh my god look at all those scars on his face...' Stiles ignored them and walked to his locker. He tossed some of the stuff he didn't need in there, and led Ace and Misty to their lockers so they could do the same. About halfway through Ace putting his stuff away Stiles felt the presence of a supernatural approaching. He turned just in time to come face to face with one of the boys on the lacrosse team the used to push him around. Stiles remembered that his name was Jake.

The boy walked to him and sneered.

"So you're finally back in town, huh? I was hoping you weren't gonna come back." Stiles brushed him off, not caring what Jake thought of him.

"I don't care Jake. You're not important to what I'm doing." Jake stood there shocked for a moment as Ace closed his locker and the three began to walk away before his face turned brought red in anger and he reached out to grab Stiles' arm.

"You listen here you worthless peice of sh-" Jake began only to be cut off as Misty grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before slamming him against the lockers. She leaned in and said in an almost sweet voice

"Sweetheart let me make this very clear. You. Don't. Get. To. Touch. Him." She annunciation each word with a sharper twist of Jake's arm before dropping him and spinning on her heel, grabbing her stuff off the floor from where she dropped it, and walking away. Stiles and Ace followed as Jake stared in shock at the three of them, confusion blatant in his face.

Stiles let out a small sigh as he walked. "I thought we were going to keep a low profile?" he said off handedly at Misty. She gave him a small innocent smile.

"Come on, you know he was asking for it." Stiles shook his head, but a small smile played on his lips. It was nice to see Misty having some fun. The girl had been through a lot, and that was before she had met up with Stiles. Stiles turned to her, a frown decorating his features.

"I am serious though. I don't want the pack gaining any insight on your strengths. That goes for you also Ace. The last thing we need is them getting in our way. What were doing is dangerous. Playing with entities the way we are is are most l ways deadly." Misty's smile dropped' her face beacoming equally as serious.

"Got it. Low profile it is." Misty said. Ace simply nodded.

The bell rang and the three of them split up, going to their respective classes. Stiles ended up in a Chemistry with Lydia and unfortunately, Scott. He quickly sat with Lydia, attempting to pay no attention to the other boy. He made small talk with Lydia, waiting for the class to start. They were just getting into a discussion of Stiles' schooling in New York when Harris walked in. He had began preparing when he noticed Stiles sitting with Lydia.

Harris' face shifted from shock to a sneer. "I see we have a familiar face here." He said a condescending look playing on his face. "Would you mid sharing where you have been for the last year Mr. Stilinski?" He asked. Stiles looked at him dully, letting out a bored, "I'm pretty sure teachers aren't supposed to ask students about their personal lives, especially when said student has connections at the police department." Harris' face turned into a wicked smile. "And what would they do Mr Stilinski? Fire me for asking an innocent question?" Stiles looked bored at that, knowing that no matter what Harris said to him, he'd still be a pathetic little troll man.

"Does it seem like I give enough of a fuck to go through the long list of shit you've done?" Stiles tilted his head and gave a bright smile while Harris returned an equally condescending one.

"Mr Stilinski, you should know better than to swear in my classroom. That is a detention. I'll see you after school today."

Stiles turned his bored gaze back to Harris asking "Do you really think I'm going to go to that? If you do you must be a whole lot stupider than I remember." Harris face turned bright red at that and turned away from Stilinski, obviously far too irritated to continue the conversation. The entire class looked between the two, seemingly trying to decide whether they would sit silently in shock or congratulate Stiles for finally getting Harris to shut the hell up. The latter easily won and throughout the class Stiles received winks and thumbs up from around the room, though Harris caught some of the students doing it and gave them detention but very blatantly ignored Stiles.

The class was fairly boring for Stiles though. He had already learned this material when he was in New York, and chemistry had always been an uninteresting subject for Stiles, so when the bell finally rang he was glad to be out of there. Sadly his next class left him in the same room as Isaac and Erica. After entering the room and making eye contact with them, he squared his shoulders and very purposely ignored the two wolves.

The class went by quickly, and it left Stiles surprised when the bell rang. He quickly gathered his stuff and left the room, intending to avoid the pack for the rest of the day, and hopefully find Ace and Misty. That didn't work out however when as he was walking by an empty room, he was grabbed and dragged in. Immediately Stiles turned around and thrashed his way out of the grip holding him. He lifted his arms an incantation on his lips only to have it die when he saw who was there. Standing in front of him was Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Jackson, and Allison. Stiles' eyes narrowed, as he braced himself, suspecting that they may very well be here to kill him.

Instead however, Erica took a step forward and looked at Stiles. "Stiles," She began, "we're so sorry for what we did. We didn't mean to hurt you." Tears formed in Erica's eyes, but Stiles remained carefully composed. She began talking again. "We should have done something, anything, to stop Derek, but he wouldn't let us. He kept us bound using the pack bond, and I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything." She began to cry worse. "Is that it?" Stiles asked, sounding increasingly bored. This apparently upset Jackson, because he took a step toward Stiles, clenching his fist. "You son of a bitch, we're trying to apologize." Jackson growled. Stiles simply looked at him blandly, and said "Well try harder."

Jackson stepped forward and grabbed Stiles by the shoulders, beggin ingredients of say something only to be cut off as Stiles pinned him to the wall by his throat. "Listen to me you filthy little mut. I'm not your punching bag anymore. You don't get to put your hands on me." Stiles pushed down on Jackson's throat, choking him. "Do you understand me?" He asked angrily, watching as Jackson nodded, desperately scratching at his throat in an attempt to break free. "Good." And with that Stiles dropped him and turned to the rest of the pack. "Stay away from me. I'm not your friend, I'm not your pack mate, I'm not your brother, and I'm not someone who wants to deal with you." Stiles turned around and walked out the door, and began to go to lunch. 

Stiles was angry walking down the halls. His blood boiled when he though about the pack, and he had thought he had gotten over the anger but it still burned so hot inside him.

Stiles continued past the lunchroom and instead moved toward the library. He had lost his appetite and needed to continue with his research. Stiles couldn't allow his plan to go awry. It had to be perfect if he was to ensure the safety of those in Beacon Hills.

Stiles sent a text to Ace and Misty saying "Meet me in the library. We need to put together the last bits of the plan." With that Stiles went into the library and grabbed a few books, waiting for the others to arrive.

In some ways, Stiles knew the plan was foolish. To do what he and the others were attempting would only have one ending. Death. One of them would have to die to complete the ritual they were planning, but Ace and Misty didn't need to know that. Stiles would never put them at risk but as for himself... well that was a different case.

After all its not everyday that someone purifies a Nemeton.

Chapter Text

It was only a few minutes before Ace and Misty arrived at the library, but by then, Stiles had already found almost two dozen books about the Nemeton and Cleansing dark energy. 

Stiles was flipping through his second book when Misty came and sat across from him and Ace stood behind him looking over Stiles' shoulder.

"So find anything interesting?" Misty asked eyeing the books that surrounded Stiles on the table.

Stiles wordlessly responded by flipping the book he was reading around and sliding it to her. He watched as Misty quickly read through the page eyes flicking back and forth as she processed paragraph after paragraph. After she had finished she let out a long whistle. 

"This sounds even more complicated than we originally thought." Misty said, still eyeing the page before flipping it over to continue reading. "Think we can still do it?"

"I wouldn't have brought us here if I didn't." Stiles said already flipping through another book. "We'll need some special herbs for this though. Think Virtue will let us cash in on her garden?"

Ace answered in a calm voice that to many would seem like indifference but to those that knew him meant he was just thinking intensely. "I believe she stills owes us after we got those goblins out of the forest where she practiced."

Stiles nodded thoughtfully, before finally closing the book and leaning back in the chair. He closed his eyes and let his head tip back so he stared at the ceiling. He spoke in a calm tone, asking, "You sense them too?"

Misty snorted at his words. "Of course I do," she said as if she couldn't care less. "They aren't exactly sneaky." 

Both Stiles and Misty were refering to the two wolves that hid a level above them, blatantly eavesdropping on their coversation.

Stiles opened his eyes and muttered a quick spell that would allow them a small amount of privacy. To others it would seem as though the three teenagers were simply studying silently at the table, shielding them from prying eyes as well as ears.

Stiles leaned forward again and looked at Misty. "We'll have to hide the books so they don't catch on to what we are doing. I don't want them getting involved."

Misty looked at him quizzically before she spoke. "Why is that?" She asked before quickly adding, "I mean I get that they may not like us tampering with the Nemeton, but we're cleansing it. Why would they try to stop us?"

Stiles looked down at his hands for a moment before answering. "It's not that I think they will try and stop us," He said folding his hands together before looking at Misty. "It's that I think they will try to get involved and get with how dangerous this is, I have no doubt one of them will be killed. They have no idea the magnitude of the Nemeton's power and just one wrong word or one bad movement and it could lash out. We can't take that risk. We know what we are doing and how to handle these kind of things. They don't."

Misty nodded her head at that and sat silently for a few moments thinking. "So now what?" She questioned, resting her head on her hand.

Ace spoke before Stiles had the chance to. "I suspect we should find a way to take these books with us without the two spies up there finding out. How should we do that Stiles?" He questioned.

"I think we should cast an illusion spell on them. Nothing fancy, but something that will make them think we are putting the books away while we sign them out." Stiles said. "You good with that?" He asked the two.

Both Misty and Ace nodded, so Stiles began another incantation. "Let us become hidden from prying eyes as our enemies are deceived by the tricks for shadows." Stiles chants quietly, feeling a blanket of magic drape over his body as he begins to feel light and weightless. 

Stiles loved this spell. It was simple yet powerful, using his enemies senses against them by slightly altering them. For a werewolf it would appear as though Ace, Misty, and Stiles had just gone quiet for a while, while the real counterparts would sign out the books and leave. The only problem was if someone tried to interact with the illusion. Talking to them or touching them would seem wrong. The illusions wouldn't talk white right. Stiles just hoped that the wolf wouldn't try to start anything with Holo Stiles.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Stiles, Ace and Misty left the library, toting their books behind them and praying that the illusions would hold long enough for them to make their escape. The books were an invaluable source of knowledge and Stiles doubted that they could perform their ritual to cleanse the Nemeton without them. It was of course during this moment that Lydia came around the corner of the school hallway and caught them red handed.

“I’m pretty sure it's against school rules to take books out of the library without signing them out first.” Lydia said, a small smirk on her face as she raised her eyebrow in question. Stiles paused, tensing up, unsure of if Lydia would rat them out. If the pack knew about what they were doing, he had no doubt that they would tell Derek, and that was a whole shitstorm he wasn't ready to deal with. Stiles’ mind began to move, desperately thinking of excuses, filling with spells that would let them get away without Lydia getting involved, before he realized a simple fact. He could trust Lydia. Stiles chided himself for being so paranoid, especially when it came to Lydia. She’d already proven herself to be a loyal and understanding friend, and letting himself think otherwise would only cause pointless problems.

Stiles threw a glance behind them from where they had come from. The illusions had surely faded by now and the wolves had probably realised that their little group had vanished. He sighed and turned back to Lydia.

“Listen, we don’t have much time before the puppies come and intrude so I’ll keep this simple. I can’t tell you what we are up to. I know you want to find out but it’s just not something I can say.” Stiles looked over his shoulder making sure the wolves still hadn’t left. “Not yet at least. When I know more I’ll tell you everything. Just… Just give me time.”

Stiles watched Lydia's mouth screw up in annoyance, angered by the lack of answers before she took a deep breath and faced him. “Fine,” She said, irritation obvious in her voice, “But so help me God, Stiles, if you keep up this cloak and dagger shit I’m going to lose it.”

Stiles felt a small smile grace his lips. He’d missed this so much, The snark and the wit to rival his own, if not surpass it. How he’d survived without her, Stiles didn’t know. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

Misty and Ace took this as their cue and they took off down the hall, leaving Stiles to catch up to them. Stiles moved to step past Lydia only for her to grab his arm. “Stiles,” She began, “Be careful.” Stiles turned to look at Lydia a smirk climbing onto his face. “When have I ever been careful?” With that he disappeared down the hall following after Misty and Ace.

Lydia stood there for a moment, staring at where Stiles had disappeared down the hall, before the pack came around the corner. Their eyes flew to Lydia as their nostrils flared, scenting the air. Scott was the first to speak. “Where’s Stiles?” He growled at Lydia, his eyes flaring that electric yellow. Lydia turned to fully face him and with the most Queen Bee voice she could muster she said “What the hell is a Stiles?” Before walking away, her heels making a sharp clicking noise with every step she took. Behind her, Scott’s rage grew.

***

Stiles and his two companions had gone back to his house, and laid the books out on the desk in his room. “Alright,” he began, his voice tired. “Misty, You wanna cover the ingredients, call some of our people and see what they got going?”

“Sure,” Misty said, “I’ve been meaning to talk to Virtue anyway.” She pulled out her phone sending off a few texts to scope out some people before calling Virtue. The phone rang for a few seconds and Stiles heard Virtue’s voice through the phone as Misty began to walk out of the room.

Stiles turned to Ace, and was about to ask him about the translations, only to be cut off. “I know you’re going to check up on it.” Ace said, his voice even, giving away nothing. But Stiles knew Ace and he saw the look of concern on his face.

“Don’t wor-” Stiles started only to get cut off by Ace’s hand. “Just be safe.” He said before grabbing the books and walking out of the room, leaving Stiles to do what needed to be done.

Stiles stood there for a few seconds, thinking about what he was going to do, and how much it disgusted him. Eventually he let out a sigh and left his house, and getting in his jeep. He started the engine and pulled out onto the road, letting his mind drift into the back and he drove to the preserve.

Stiles sat in his car on the ride, wondering what he would do after the nemeton was cleansed. He’d probably head back to New York. Maybe attend a pretentious school with some interesting mythology classes. First he’d have to get out of the shit hole that is Beacon Hills. Stiles hated this town and everything that was in it, ranging from its shitty high school, all the way to it's even more shitty supernatural underbelly. Honestly what kind of town gets a psycho zombie werewolf who won’t fucking stay dead and a goddamn kanima? Beacon HIlls, thats where.

Stiles’ mind continued to wander right up until he pulled up in the preserve. Already he could feel the suffocating energy of the nemeton, pulling at his own magic and drawing him in. It made Stiles shiver, and he felt bile build in the back of his throat. Some part of Stiles wondered how it was that he had never noticed the way the Nemeton made him feel, How had he not felt its vile aura?

Stiles stepped through the woods, pushing past the branches and bushes and came into the clearing he hated ever so much. In its center was the same giant stump, waiting like always. Every step Stiles took towards the tree allowed him to get a clearer feel of the nemetons energy.

Its roots were tinted a dark colour, the soil surrounding it dry and dead of the energy that all things had. Even the trees surrounding the Nemeton, though almost a dozen yards awar, were withering, their energy sapped by the nemetons greedy tendrils. The center of the stump oozed a dark coloured liquid, and Stiles was fairly certain it was blood, not that he was going to get up close and check, thank you very much.

All in all the stump was in awful condition and the sight only strengthened Stiles resolve to cleanse the tree. He couldn't knowingly let something this evil exist. Stiles took a deep breath and gathered the courage to touch the very edge of the tree. As his fingers crept closer to the Nemeton Stiles could feel the tree’s energy reaching out to meet him, the feeling of “ I remember you ” clear in the energy around it. Stiles let out an involuntary shiver when his fingers finally made contact. The tree felt cold, but not in the sense of frost or an icy breeze. No the nemeton felt empty, as though it was a black hole, sucking in all it could but never truly full.

Stiles found himself leaning forward without even thinking about it and placing his other hand on that stupid stump. The cold feeling amplified and Stiles felt the nemeton seemingly wake from its temporary slumber, felt it's sickening energy prod at him, as if trying to understand how Stiles had become who he was. Memories flashed through Stiles’ mind, starting with when they had first found the nemeton. The tree had remembered their sacrifice, and it had especially remembered Stiles. It remembered the scared skinny child who had willingly given his life for his father, and it was confused as to how he had become the mage he was today. More memories flashed by, Jennifer being betrayed by Kali, her using the tree to save herself, desperate to survive. The second time, when she dragged herself to the stump, throat barely held together, and Peter, who waited and pounced when the moment was right, finally ending the darach. The many sacrifices that lay between. More memories played in Stiles head. The Nemeton being cut down, hiding itself away from the world when the Hale Pack perished, and finally Derek. Stiles felt his breath catch as he watched this scene. A young Derek Hale, holding an equally young girl, his veins a constant black and he steals her pain, desperately trying to give her some semblance of peace. He watches the girl beg Derek, pleading with him to make the pain stop. Stiles watches as Derek crushes the girl, never letting her drop from his arms. He watches as Derek’s eyes turn blue and he watches as Talia finds them both, speaking to her son in soft tones, and pulling the dead girl from his arms. Finally the stump releases Stiles and he jerks back gasping for breath, tears streaming down his face, feeling as though he intruded on something truly private.

Stiles doesn't know how long he stays there, his mind desperately trying to catalogue all these memories that have invaded his thoughts, before finally, he drags himself away. Stiles barely remembers getting to his car, and he just plainly doesn't remember the drive home, which scares him all too much. He drags himself into his house and doesn't even stop when Misty asks him what's wrong, just drags himself into his room and when he lays down, his last thought is “ I always wondered why his eyes were blue. ”

***

Waking up the next morning leaves Stiles feeling exhausted. He had known that his little pow-wow with the Nemeton would take it out of him, but he hadn't expected the stump to drag him through the past. In the end Stiles feels almost guilty for seeing Derek at such a vulnerable time. Almost. Still Stiles has work to do so he drags himself out of bed, and showers, washing of the dirt and grime that was left on him from the day before and heading downstairs to grab Breakfast. He’s only slightly surprised to find Misty and Ace still there, and realises that his Dad had probably came home and set them up in the guest room. Speaking of his Dad, Stiles looks around the room trying to find the man, only to come up short. Misty glances at him and says “Your dad had to head the the station, said something about a couple of teens found drunk in the alley last night.” Stiles snorts at that and moves to make a cup of coffee only to have Ace pass him one. Stiles thanks him before downing the entire thing. Magic may work wonders but nothing could replace the true power of caffeine.

The three sit in silence for a few moments, and Stiles catches both Misty and Ace sharing looks with each other, a silent conversation going on between them. Finally Misty turns to Stiles and asks the question he knew would come. “What happened?”

Stiles lets out a sigh, placing down his almost empty mug of coffee. He looks down at the black liquid, his mind spinning with the new memories that plagued his mind. “It wiggled its way inside my head and made me watch all that it had experienced.” He takes another drink of his coffee, finishing it off before standing. “Come on, we have classes to attend.” Stiles sets his glass in the sink, and feels more than sees Misty roll her eyes.

“Yay, high school.” Misty says sarcastically. “Shoulda just taken online.” With that, they leave the house, hopping into Stiles’ jeep and heading to school. Hopefully it's not as bad as the day before.

Chapter Text

Hi everyone. Just wanted to let you guys know that i am still working on this and i am acutally revising thew earlier chapter. Ive just finished and uploaded chapter three, and chapter 1 and 2 are already done. Once im done fixing the earlier chapters ill get back to creating new ones. Have a good one!