Teen Wolf 1. Chapter 1

AN: This is the long, possibly awaited sequel to Fallout(which was a sequel to Silenced Wounds that you probably don't have to read either of). As for my excuse for the wait, there were family issues and personal issues and I didn't want to write something that dealt with something so dark to be honest with you all. Also, while I knew the plot of the story I wasn't sure how to go about it. Thanks to a much needed few hours of sleep my mind was able to concoct the first chapter.

This will disregard season 3B, so everyone is still here. It may possibly play a bit with the whole 'darkness around their hearts' thing that season 3A mentioned at the end. However, I might put my own little twist on that with what I see a 'darkness around your heart' to mean a bit. To simplify this...3B NEVER happened. Except for what happened in Fallout. Title is subject to change because I hate it, so if anyone has any suggestions feel free.

Summary: It gets bearable after a few days go by, it's easier. The nightmares aren't real anymore, they aren't happening all over again and no one's asking any questions. Until the nightmares become reality once again and he's not sure if hiding it would be smart but he might be a little scared.

Warnings: Nightmares, mention of rape of a child, possible triggers. I'll make sure to warn you each chapter.

* * *

It gets better, at least, they tell you it does. In fact, that's a lot of what Stiles heard his first few weeks of 'recovery' as he heard it be called. The word was tossed around between Scott and Derek, Melissa and his father, his father and his therapist but it doesn't faze him. They could call it whatever they wanted, that was the least of his problems. He was personally more concerned with trying to control the nightmares, trying to push away the memories and trying to pretend like he hadn't fallen apart only days earlier. He still gets them, the nightmares. He still dreams about words being spat at him, whispered in his ear. He dreams about warm breath and shaky pleads that go unheard. He dreams about loose grips and rough fingers trailing his body. He wakes up and looks around, still has to search the house when he's alone. He wakes up and presses a hand to his mouth, digs teeth into his tongue, trembles and cries, trying to silence it, hoping to muffle it behind his palm. He wakes up and stumbles out of his bed, looking for an unwanted visitor behind him. Every time his feet touch the floor he's not sure if he's searching for a demon – glad for the lack of physical pain on his chest, not in but on- or if he's searching for McCall, the man who took his innocence away, the man who ruined him, the man responsible for the nightmares.

He still fears the worst, still believes the words he's heard this whole time, ringing in his head, pounding against his ears. He still believes it's not over, he's not naïve, it can't be that simple. It doesn't feel that easy...easy? It wasn't all that easy either, he can pretend it is. Pretend he doesn't wake up sobbing, holding back a scream that's dying to be released. He can do that, that's easier because unlike before...there aren't really hands holding his wrist, there isn't another body – if you could call it that – on his chest, keeping him there, pinned to the bed. He can fake it because when it's just dreams, when it's just memories, it's not real. He can fake it because he sees the worry on everyone's face when they see him, the fear and the sympathy. The sympathy and fear and worry for him, for his sleeping habits, for his health. The sympathy and fear and worry because of him. He believed them – believes, he believes them...he thinks he does anyway, when they said it wasn't his fault. Even if they were saying it for him he believes them...believed...believes. He's not sure, not when he just wakes up, not when he walks the halls, not when he sits across from his therapist, not when he play video games with Scott, not when they talk about the supernatural, not when he falls asleep. He's never sure. He says believes, he tells his therapist it's not his fault but it kind of slipped out. There's a part of him, that part of him that know how to fake everything that's telling him it's still his fault but it can't be. He doesn't want to believe it is his fault anymore.

He yawns and rubs at his eyes, smoothing the covers down as he makes his bed, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth to chew on it slightly as he looks to the bed. He tilts his head and turns, looking around, eyes landing on the clock. Scott would be here soon and he wasn't dressed, not that Scott cared, he really didn't. Scott's bike was in the shop, that was Stiles' fault. That without a doubt was Stiles' fault. Two days ago and it was definitely his fault. He had been getting gas, stopped on the way to Scott's from picking them up some pizza, Scott said they'd order but Stiles figured it'd be easier to grab gas beforehand anyway, instead of before school or, worse, before he got a phone call about an attack and had to drive to the reservation or school- a lot happens at that school, he's starting to think there might be something about that school. He would've broken down and had to run, baseball bat in hand as he tried to make it before anyone got hurt or died. It was a normal night, he was going to spend it at Scott's when he felt it.

_He had one hand on the nozzle and the other in his pocket, clenching and unclenching against his phone. It had become a habit when he was alone, he felt like he always needed the security of knowing it was there. It was a precaution really, what if he was attacked but a rouge omega? Scott saw straight through that lie but didn't press any further so that's what he was going with. He smirked as he remembered hearing Issac mutter how he was partially right because it was a bitch he was talking about. Then he felt that horrible feeling, that feeling of eyes on him, watching him, watching his everymove, waiting. He felt like he was someone's prey and he turned, looking around for something, someone. His hand pressed against the car as he looked around, leaving the nozzle in as his heart pounded he licked his lips when he saw those eyes and that smirk._

_His mouth fell open and he blinked a bit and then he couldn't help it, he panicked. It all rushed through him, he couldn't breathe. McCall was back, he was right there, staring at him, waiting. He hit the car and pulled out his cellphone. Scott could make it here in time, especially on that bike. He would make it here on time before McCall could even do anything, anything and surely he'd run if..._

"_Stiles?" _

"_Sc-Sc-" He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. His vision was blurring his hand was scrambling for purchase against his jeep, his knees shook below him, giving out as he sunk to the ground. He wasn't even aware he was crying until there was a woman in front of him on her knees and the gas attendant asking if he should call nine-one-one._

Scott took that to mean something way worse than a panic attack occurred and he was on his bike heading towards Stiles before he could think. He wasn't paying enough attention to the road, trying to sense for his friend and contacted Derek or someone who could get to Stiles faster. Stiles hadn't known the exact story but apparently Scott had lost control, letting his bike skid away from him and into a tree but never stopping, he was on his feet and running. He beat the ambulance, which Stiles was grateful for because he's not a huge fan of riding in those things. He didn't know how long he sat there, unable to form words, unable to breathe but he knows it didn't stop until sometime after the EMT's arrived and he couldn't let go of Scott. When Scott asked what happened, Stiles whispered that he swore he saw his best friend's father and Scott went rigid. That night Scott and Derek searched the area for a hint of his father but they told him there was nothing and Stiles says he must've been hallucinating from an empty stomach. His father had been called to the bike scene and called Scott to ask him. Ever since then Scott shows up for a ride, even though they both know that Scott could make it faster on his feet. To be honest, Stiles doesn't mind the company, not after that hallucination. He kind of craves it, loves the concern he sees when Scott hugs him and squeezes, rubbing his thumb gently on his shoulder blade and sighing against him.

He shakes himself out of the thoughts and hurries to grab clothes to take a shower. Normally he doesn't take his clothes with him but he doesn't really want to drop his towel, unaware of his best friend climbing through the window like a true werewolf and both of them yelling and apologizing. That's a situation that's happened before and he'd love to avoid. When he comes back, he smiles when arms wrap around him, a sigh exhaled right by his hair as Scott's thumb moves across his shoulder the way he always has.

"Hey." He breathes to his friend before shimmying out of the hug to run the towel through his hair again and tossing it to the side of his room, deciding to worry about it after school. He hasn't eaten breakfast, which isn't uncommon for him these days. It seems as though he skips breakfast, pokes at his lunch at school and eats dinner. Scott makes up for it on the weekends, where they eat an entire house and a half...seriously, they eat everything at one of their houses then runs to the other. Issac, Derek, Ethan, Aiden, Allison and Lydia sometimes tag along as well. So, he guesses it's reasonable because they could be feeding anywhere from one to five werewolves, one teenage boy and zero to two teenage girls. It's weird to be part of something like this, when for a while it'd just been him and Scott. Sure, when all this werewolf stuff happened he knew it'd change a little but to have the pack of them all around him so much felt weird. He still hasn't really forgiven Ethan and Aiden but at the time he'd been so messed up, they'd been the least of his worries.

"I didn't finish my paper." Scott tells him sheepishly and Stiles outright laughs at him as the wolf blushes to his friend. "Do you think she'll mind?" Stiles shook his head, still laughing. "Stiles." Scott pouts and Stiles grins, the laughter ceasing slowly.

"You're paper isn't due until next Monday Scott." Scott frowns and looks down for a second before flushing brighter. Stiles just laughs again and slings an arm around Scott's shoulder. "God, buddy, where would you be without me?" He laughs and Scott shoves a cereal bar in his face. He frowns at it. "What the...Scott, what the hell?" He asks as he exits the house, his father already at work. The man had stopped by before he left and knew he didn't have to worry about Stiles going to school because Scott was coming.

"You didn't eat breakfast, it was this or an apple and our apples looked gross, there was no way I was gonna let you eat it." Stiles rolls his eyes and shakes his head, smiling as he takes the bar from Scott and rips it open with his hands.

"You're ridiculous but thanks. For not bringing me the apple. When I eat them the juices drip and it's a distraction, surely not safe to drive with." Scott snorts and Stiles hears the mumble about how Stiles licks the juices from his hand anyway.

"Yeah, well..." Scott pauses and Stiles raises a brow as he gets in the jeep, after a few minutes he encourages Scott to finish by asking. "You haven't really eaten since you saw..." He trails off. "You weren't really eating before then either but since then you haven't eaten more than a slice of pizza from the three you bought for gaming, a bite of potatoes at school and dinner with your dad, and two bites of pasta you made for me you and Issac." Stiles licks his lips and doesn't bother to ask how Scott knew that.

"Sorry," He apologizes and Scott goes to object but Stiles cuts him off "I hadn't noticed. I guess we both need each other huh?" He grins to Scott who smirks back. It's easy after that, like Stiles is fine and he knows Scott's just humoring him and he accepts the peanut butter and jelly sandwich from Scott and apple from Lydia at lunch. He smiles behind the sandwich and shakes his head. He had a really good friend sitting with him...really great friends.

* * *

AN: I know, you've waited so long and it's so short...it won't stay this short or this happy. Alright, so there are some details of this story I've been throwing around in my head so please, please let me have your thoughts. Jackson coming back, Danny finding out, Sheriff Stilinski still being under review? Those three are the only ones I can think of currently, anything else you all want to see let me know.

So this is my apologies for all feelings hurt.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: So apparently somewhere between the last time I've updated and now I've been cursed with bad luck. That's my excuse, I'm not going to get into it but I will tell you it's been a rough few months, luckily it seems everything is settling down and hopefully I'll be able to start up writing on a regular basis again.

* * *

"No, No, you piece of -" Scott gapes at the screen while Stiles cheers and high-fives Issac. Stiles laughs and tosses the controller to the side, stretching his arms and yawning. The sun had set sometime during their third rematch and it was slowly getting later and later.

"I should head home." Stiles says before sinking back into the couch while he watches Scott and Issac play.

"What? Why? It's only..." Scott struggles to grab his phone while never removing his eyes from the TV screen. "12:41." He says before licking his lips and putting the phone down, cussing at Issac.

"In the morning Scott, on a weeknight." Stiles laughs but makes no indication of actually getting up. He had a few minutes before he knew he'd have to hurry home to his father. The whole pack had started learning his father's schedule, comparing it to their own and to their parents in order to know when they could and couldn't hang out with him. He hadn't really known that was the reason they had perfect timing but he didn't seem to mind one of the betas or girls showing up at his house. When Scott finally beats Issac he jumps off the couch and shouts in joy while the two on the couch exchange amused smiles and Stiles rolls his eyes. "Alright, you beat Issac, I'm going home now."

"Do you have to?" Issac asks, leaning back onto the arm of the couch.

"Yes." Stiles laughs lightly, dragging out the 's' to emphasize his point. "We have school in the morning and I have an appointment after that." He raises his brow as though he's made his point. He doesn't need to tell them that she'll somehow know he was at Scott's all night, most likely his father telling her or even Stiles' own lips betraying him to inform the woman, and bring up his nightmares. He's been able to convince Scott they aren't that bad and that he's handling them and they only happen once in a great while but she seems to still think that's not the truth. Scott thinks they were only bad because of the demon, she doesn't know about that. He doesn't want to admit to her that he doesn't feel any better than before this all started, doesn't want to admit that his hands are always doing something when he talks with her because he's afraid they'll shake uncontrollably if they weren't moving. He doesn't have to admit any of that to her because there wasn't anything she could do to make these nightmares fade away. There wasn't anything she could do to erase the memories that are burned into his mind, that never actually went anywhere, that won't leave because he knows it's not over. Nothing is ever that simple, life isn't some fairytale where once things settle down they just stay, they just stop and they don't get worse they get better. There has to be something more, everyone's told him there was something more to come. Another creature to use this against him.

"What time are you going?" Scott inquires, tilting his head and furrowing his brows slightly.

"Right after school I'm heading over." Stiles finally pushes himself off the couch in order to grab his bag and sweatshirt that was tossed behind the sofa. "After that it kind of varies if she has a patient or not, they go over the time they're supposed to stop sometimes." He informs them, pocketing his keys, running his fingers over it while it's tucked away. "So I need to at least look like I slept." He grins at them. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Alright." Scott finally says, nodding and Issac waves to him as he heads out. He shuts the door behind him and his eyes follow the tail lights of the car, blinker indicating it was turning before entering his car and driving in the opposite direction back towards his house. His eyes catch another set of tail lights in his rear view when he's a block away heading towards Scott's house and he furrows his brow. How many people in this town drove around at this time over here. He wonders if it's Tom who lives two doors down from Scott, getting off shift. He usually got home really late as well, Stiles always knew he was late when Tom pulled up before he left Scott's house and by late he means he would never make it home in time and he would be pulling up after his father, coming up with an excuse the entire way. His brain automatically starts to come up with reasons as to why he stayed at Scott's until 1am on a Monday night. He thinks a project would work just fine, or even something werewolf related now that his father knows. When he pulls up though the house is dark and the driveway is empty. He doesn't linger on the thought as he cuts his engine, pockets his keys and dashes towards the house before his father can pull up. He's showered and in bed by the time the front door opens, he smirks to himself and rolls over. He was golden. He tucks his hand under his pillow, drawing it closer to his cheek and temple, yawning and closing his eyes. It was a really long day and he was so glad to finally sleep.

* * *

"It's not really a big deal, it was one time prior and...I'm getting better." Stiles licks his front teeth, looking away from the therapist in front of him. He had wanted to talk to Deaton about it first, he wanted to make sure that it was all him and not something...else that was making him feel like that, making him think like this. He wanted Deaton to run through lists of creatures and what they could do and how to find them before he talked about it, before he brought it up and added onto the list of reasons everyone thinks he should be here. "I know it's not real and the dreams are fading, they're easier to ignore." He shrugs as if it's not a big deal, trying to defend it. She hadn't had a client before him so when he walked in, looking nauseous and panicked she had gestured him to sit and got him a glass of water. He said it wasn't a big deal, he told her it was just something while he was driving here. When she asked what he confessed he saw McCall again on the ride here. The word again seemed to pique her interest and make her curious about what exactly he'd seen before.

"I didn't say it wasn't." She tells him.

"Because it is, it's a lot easier and I know he's not...really there." He hesitates to admit it. Both times he had thought that McCall must've been real, that the guy had come to get him or...or something that looked like him had come to mess with their pack and knew he was the easiest target to get through. She hums at him, agreement in her tone. He runs his finger over the rim of the cup wondering if there was a possibility he was hallucinating the man being around because he was so strongly set on the guy being there. "I mean...I'm just seeing things that aren't there and I know that."

"Do you?" She questions quietly, genuine concern in her tone.

"Yes!" He says back, all but yelling before he slumps a little bit. "I think so. It's not like he'd come back..." He blinks. "I'm dealing with it, it's just sometimes it's a little scarier than others." He licks his bottom lip this time, squeezing the cup in his hands lightly. "I just think that it's not over, that he's going to come back and there's no way it was that easy to get over everything." He hasn't said it out loud before but to his ears it sounds so ridiculous to admit, confessing this was easy, that there wasn't a struggle to get to where he was now, where he was still a little broken and damaged and not really worth it. Not worth it at all. "Not that it was easy because it really wasn't." He tells her. "It isn't." He corrects, furrowing his brows and shaking the cup, watching a drop slide down the side and blinking as it collected at the bottom of the plastic.

"What happened the first time you saw him?" She questions and he looks up, meeting her eyes, looking to her pen that's resting on his empty form in his folder. The manilla contrasted by the colors of the stickers with his name on them place on the tab of the folder, with tiny white sheets of paper that could tell anyone of the nightmares in his head and probably half his life.

"I was getting gas, I was going to Scott's." He shakes his head. "There wasn't anything bad at all, I was just worried about running out of gas if something were to happen so I stopped and got some." He swallows. "I was a little cautious, I guess, that might have something to do with it but he was right there and I panicked, I...I couldn't think about facing him again, not alone, not on the way to Scott's house." He swallows, maybe he had worked it all up, maybe it wasn't something supernatural but actually and truly all in his head. Maybe he was losing grip on something he's held onto too tightly for too long. "I called Scott but..." He trails off, biting his lip as he recalls how horrified he was at the thought of that man being anywhere near him. At how he pathetically collapsed to the ground and basically sobbed without actually knowing that He was anywhere near him. He always had the upperhand, even when he wasn't in Beacon Hills. Stiles always gave him the upperhand. And he hated himself for it. "he knew I was scared, that's all he knew. Someone else called for an ambulance."

"How long ago was this?" She questions and he shrugs, not wanting to admit he hadn't told her in the past few times he'd seen her.

"Two, three weeks ago." He finally admits and he she nods to him.

"What about today? What were you thinking before you saw him?" She questions and he realizes she's trying to figure out his trigger because to her he's just someone hallucinating, she's trying to place his trigger to help him avoid it.

"I don't know." He admits, shaking his head and thinking. "I was on my way here so I was thinking about that but I wasn't really thinking anything in particular, there was nothing strongly there." He admits. He had been thinking about driving here and talking about McCall and knowing he couldn't really avoid it because that was the whole reason he was here. He had thought about heading to Scott's later. Could Scott trigger it? He was still a little guilty about the whole thing, felt bad for what he'd done to Scott. But Scott was his best friend and if Scott could forgive him, he could forgive himself. "Not until after I saw him, then I swerved a little, I didn't nearly panic as much." He tells her shaking the cup again and watching another lone drop make it's way to the bottom, slow and sliding over the ridges. He swerved and he shook but he was driving so he had to keep his focus. He couldn't get hurt inside of his moving car, he was safe right now, he could panic if he saw McCall again outside the building, then he could panic. He still hadn't gotten the image of the guy out of his head when he parked and he remembered informing the receptionist he was here and still feeling sick to his stomach, sinking to a chair and trembling until she saw him and guided him back. "I was safe in my car." He tells her and licks his lips. He hates these sessions, the ones where everything is out in the open, when he feels vulnerable. It's gotten easier to talk to her but sometimes he doesn't want to, not when it gets to strong. When it feels like his chest is going to cave in and he's going to lose hold of everything he has. "I'm going over to Scott's today, we played games with Issac until one last night." She looks shocked at how quickly he's changed the topic but she smiles and nods, letting him move on.

"How are they?" She asks instead, knowing they'll come back to it sooner rather than later but if Stiles needed time to relax, she would let him. They've gone through this a lot, usually when they talk about Melissa because Stiles starts to feel guilty and look wounded. A few times when she's got him to open up about the actual incident he back tracks and mutters about school after looking like he was reliving the moment, tense and scared. She had thought for a little while that he was going to leave their sessions behind but she was glad someone had convinced him to stay, especially now that she can hear he's seeing the man again.

"Issac's great, we got Scott really good the other day." She also is very amazed at how quickly he can shove back the pain that takes over his face in order to grin and explain to her something that happened that was off topic. She wonders how long he fought with himself to hide what he was really feeling and wonders how many times she misses when he's hurt. She doesn't know how as a kid, when it first started, he'd practice in the mirror. Figuring out how to make it as realistic as the real thing, doesn't know how hard it was for him to keep it together when his mother would call him out on it. She just knows he's good at it, she doesn't know the details of what the kid really went through to get here.

* * *

Stiles might be a little paranoid but he can't help but throw the two options around in his head as he lies in his bed, moving slightly in the quiet house. His window is open just enough to let in a cool breeze or allow his pack access if they were to need him, enough for their fingers to slip under and push it up. The sun had yet to completely set so there was still light in his darkened room, he had found this to be the first place to go after his appointment, trying to clear his head, maybe sleep off his thoughts. He moves again, drawing his legs up so his feet rest flat on the sheets of his bed, flexing his fingers as he stares at the ceiling. Could he be seeing things? McCall. Could he have worked himself up so much at the thought of that man coming back that he might've actually made himself see someone who isn't really there. It's only happened twice but he was so sure he was positive that who he saw was that man. He had no question in his mind that he saw that man. There was no hesitancy to believe that he saw, whether it be his own mind or the manipulation of someone else, he saw that man standing, driving. He rubs his fingers over his forehead, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows as he tries to get his thoughts together. He should've talked to Deaton first, he should've gotten any possibility of the supernatural out of the way before he told his doctor he might've lost any control he had on himself. He kicks his feet down, tugging at the sheets and letting his thighs hit the bed with a sigh. He didn't think he was that worked up about it but clearly he was if he was thinking this hard about it. He just needed to sleep, he'd wake up tomorrow and everything would go back to normal. He wouldn't tell Scott or the other's what happened on his drive to the office, wouldn't think about McCall any more than he has and he wouldn't let himself get lost in the idea that He was coming back. Even if He had every right to.

Stiles closes his eyes and rolls to his side, burying his face in the pillow for a second before turning it so his cheek rested on the soft fabric of the covering. If it happened again, he'd talk to Deaton see if there was anything that could shift or manipulate his vision. He inhales and exhales, keeping his breathing calm as he opens hi eyes to stare at the floor. If not, he always had someone to talk to, even if he didn't want to admit to this. This was just too much for him, this was...it was crazy. This was supposed to be over. He didn't want to think about this any more than he had to. He did a lot of thinking about it once the demon was gone, every time he looked at Scott and Melissa he couldn't think about anything else except how he's ruined their image of that man, of how he hurt them. And he knows he did, he knows he's hurt them. He doesn't have to fight that, it's a fact. He saw their faces when he told them...when Scott found out, every time they brought it up. He still can't look at Melissa without feeling guilty. He knows he shouldn't because they said they didn't want him to but...he couldn't help it. There was always something pulling at the back of his mind reminding him of what he'd done, what he never stopped. He almost freaks out when his phone rings, his heart jerking at the sound. He reaches for it and smiles softly at Scott's name, pushing himself to sit as he swiped at the screen to answer it.

"Hey." He says softly into the phone, rubbing at his eyes and smiling.

"Hi, you home?" Scott asks and he hums in response, answering him. "I was going to call you earlier but I didn't know when you got out."

"Yeah, I'm home." He tells Scott, shoving at his blankets and kicking his feet off the side of the bed, bare feet touching the floor. "What's up?"

"There was a fight at Derek's today, everyone is really upset so we're going to go catch a movie and dinner are you in?" Stiles furrowed his brows and rubbed at his temple. He didn't really have to ask who fought, Issac and Aiden were at each other a lot which always led to Derek and Ethan joining in. Stiles didn't blame them, he'd like to get in on the yelling sometimes too but after the last time when they broke Derek's window, you'd think everyone would cool it a bit. It got very annoying to watch Scott struggle to get the group to calm down and looking at Stiles and the girls for help, which usually started with shrugs and shakes of the heads, stating he was on his own right now.

"Yeah, yeah, sounds like a plan. Need anything cleaned up?"

"Derek and Aiden are cleaning up right now." Scott pauses for a moment. "I should probably head back in to go make sure they aren't fighting again." He says and Stiles snickers. "Issac's probably going to stop by your place so give him a ride back, yeah? We'll meet here and head over once you guys get here. Allison went to go get Lyd-I gotta go, Stiles, I'll talk to you when you get here." Stiles says his goodbyes before he laughs at Scott's yell towards the men fighting. Figures. He thinks as he pushes himself to stand, dropping his phone onto the bed and ignoring it as it bounces up once and falls back to the bed. He shreds himself of his sweats to pull on a pair of jeans and tugs on a shirt, rolling his shoulders and stretching.

"How'd the appointment go?" He hears as he jerks forward, shoving things on his dresser over as his hand scrambled for a weapon before the voice registered. His hand went to his chest as he looked over to the curly haired wolf, pursing his lips to hide his laugh as he raises his brows.

"Don't do that." Stiles scolds. "Do you want to be the reason my heart relocates?" He questions and Issac stays silent, waiting for an answer. "Fine, it went fine." Issac's eyes snap to his chest before meeting his eyes.

"Whatever you say." Stiles narrows his eyes at him before rolling them and falling to his bed to pull on his socks and shoes. "I didn't want to be at the loft any longer than I had to so I came to see how you were, you don't have to be honest with me." Stiles smiles and shakes his head, placing his foot on the floor and standing.

"Issac, that stuff is confidential, hence I can't tell you about it but it went okay. Nothing big happened at my appointment." Stiles says. "Now, come on, I have to bring you back to Scott so we can go out with the entire pack and make friends with each other." Issac 'mhm's as if that's the last thing he intends to do but follows Stiles as the young man reaches for his phone before shutting his window and heading out the door, down the stairs.

"After it?" Issac asks and Stiles sighs. "Before it?"

"Let it go." Stiles says with a smirk and Issac huffs but agrees to.

"Can you stop by the house so I can grab a new shirt with less blood on it." Stiles furrows his brows at the betas words before turning and looking back towards Issac, eyes snapping to the little blood spatter on the hem of his shirt and laughing. He nods and snatches his keys off the table, shaking his head and allowing Issac to exit the house first, following and locking the door behind him. He makes his way to the car and drives Issac back to Scott's, small talk between the two about the fight, mainly Issac complaining about the twins while stiles agreed pointlessly. He pulls up to the house and tells Issac to hurry up, Issac frowns at him but exits the car. Stiles stares at Melissa's car before unbuckling and exiting the vehicle, watching a car take off away from the house a few doors down and frowning, narrowing his eyes off it. Didn't the guy know about speeding limits? Sheesh. He jogs up to the door and sees Melissa cleaning up the kitchen.

"Stiles." She greets when she sees him and he grins at her.

"Hey, Ms. McCall. I didn't know if Scott called you but we're all heading off to the movies and dinner." He tells her, hoping she doesn't feel like she'd done something wrong like she told him when he first confessed to her.

"Issac said something when he ran up the stairs, thanks for clarifying." She tells him and he nods. "How're you?" He shrugs and tells her he's pretty good, a bit annoyed with the fighting but good. She laughs at his words. "I understand, the werewolves fighting makes too much of a mess that's why they didn't meet here today." Stiles grins at her words, seems fair that she told Scott not here if Ethan, Aiden, Issac and Derek were supposed to be confined in the same walls for more than fourty-five minutes, make that ten. Issac jogs back down the stairs, his face questioning Stiles. "Alright, you boys behave and I'll see you tonight." She tells them, both of the waving as screaming goodbye as they exited the house.

"I thought you weren't coming in?" Issac finally asks as Stiles backs out and drives towards Derek's. Stiles keeps quiet for a minute, hesitating to speak truthfully.

"Didn't want her to think I was mad at her." He tells Issac finally, voice a little quiet. Issac looks over and smiles softly. "I hope you grabbed cash because I'm broke and I doubt Derek will buy everyone popcorn again." Issac laughs and nods, pulling out a wallet. "Good, you can cover mine, sweetie." He teases.

"I'd love to." Issac teases back, letting his arm fall to rest, fingers outside against the car, listening to Stiles laugh.

* * *

AN: Alright, I'm ending it here. Again, sorry for the wait, hopefully I'll be able to get back to a normal pace soon. If I ever figure out exactly how to write what I want to write. Let me know if there's anything you want to see and if you liked it, or if you didn't. Criticism is deeply appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Back from vacation and my horrible struggle of trying to write these. I'm starting college in the fall so I'm going to try and bust all these out before I finished. I genuinely have no idea where this story is going to go or anything but I know a few scenes I would like to get in the story but we'll see how it goes. Sorry it took so long to get this out hopefully I won't go anywhere until September.

* * *

"Hey." Stiles murmurs to his friend as he slides into the seat next to Scott, eyes glancing out the window and towards the parking lot. Scott's bike had gotten fixed and the older boy had stopped showing up in the mornings, driving himself to school every morning and meeting Stiles in class. Every day sliding him a morning snack, fruit or a cereal bar. It didn't matter, it was Scott's way of making sure Stiles had breakfast and the whole pack would make sure he ate lunch because they could all tell he was still having trouble sleeping and would sometimes drift off on Scott's shoulder. Scott would let him, of course, if the boy was that tired, Scott would gladly let him take a nap and even growl when his pack got too loud even though the entire cafeteria was laughing and screaming like the children they were. Scott examines his friend and quickly slides over a granola bar. Stiles doesn't even question it and quickly rips the package.

"You okay?" Scott glances out the window to see if anything was out there and Stiles just grins, taking a large bite and nodding his head. "Is something outside?"

"No, Scott, nothing. Let it go." Stiles ignores the look at Scott eyes him, worry written all over the Alpha's face.

"You'd tell me if something was wrong right?"

"If I felt you needed to know." Stiles says, avoiding the simple question. A yes would be a lie and a no would probably be equally a lie but also hurt Scott. Scott frowns at that but Stiles meets his eyes, a little desperate to make Scott let it go. "I'm okay." He promises and Scott smiles with a small nod. "We should hang out tonight." Scott grins.

"Yeah, okay, you want to come over?" He can see his best friend debate which house to go to before Stiles nods. "We'll probably have to pick up some snacks. I don't think I have any at the house."

"That's cool. I was going to stop at the store for my house anyway, I'll pick up some snacks and meet you at your place. Is Issac staying in tonight?" Scott shrugs at that and Stiles hums, turning his attention back to the bar in his hand with a small smile. Scott grins at his friend before looking out the window again, searching it for anything that could possibly bother Stiles. Stiles had seemed pretty okay these past few days, he showed up to school a little tired but never with his heart racing the way it was in his chest. Scott has noticed this a few times as well in the past few weeks. He wondered if something was going on. He knows something is going on, he just doesn't know what. And it's getting to him, it's worrying him more than he ever thought Stiles could. He was more than happy to have Stiles come over tonight because when Stiles was over that meant Scott could see that he was safe and that's all that Scott wants right now. It's been a while since Stiles had seen what Stiles thought was his father but Scott was still worried about him. It was obvious he still didn't sleep well, it was obvious he'd still get worked up every once in a while and Scott couldn't help but want to fix the problem.

* * *

Stiles doesn't want to bring it up with Scott, doesn't really want to worry his friend with the stupid thought of it all. He knows the pack knows something is wrong but there's no need to bring it up until he knows for sure what's going on. It doesn't help that he too afraid to ask Deaton and too worried to inform his therapist. It's not an often occurrence, it's not like McCall is there every time he steps out of his house or every time he's alone. Though, with that being said there's no trigger he can figure out either. He's starting to truly believe that it's something supernatural related and he should probably bring it up to someone but if it's not that means he'll have to face the fact he's seen the man with his own eyes and is probably going crazy. He's losing grip and he isn't sure how to grab back onto it, he doesn't know how to make himself feel okay again. He knows it's not real because one of the werewolves would've known by now. Right?

He grins at Scott and promises to meet up at Scott's house. Scott says he has to stop by his mother's work because he wanted to drop off a nice lunch for her and Stiles nods before hopping in his jeep and pulling out of his spot to head out of the lot and to the store. He didn't want to do too big a shopping, he just wanted to grab some things for meals at the house and snacks for Scott's. He was going to put it off until the weekend but they needed something to hold them over, considering Melissa scolded them for eating everything last time. They had restocked the house for her after that with apologies and guilty faces. She had shook her head and smiled at them. Stiles still felt really awkward around her but he was hiding it because he didn't want her to think she had done anything wrong. He'd avoid her gaze sometimes before he realized what he was doing but he'd quickly smile and hope to reassure her he was okay. He grabs a cart and hurries down the aisles. It's no mistake when he sees him leave, it's horrifying and he knows what he sees. And he knows he's caught staring. And he knows he looks horrified and shocked and probably wounded but he catches the shock fade to a smirk and suddenly he doesn't want to walk out the store. He's slower down the aisles now, licking his lip and convincing himself it wasn't real. McCall wasn't here and McCall certainly wouldn't wait for him if he was here. He really wasn't worth that much. His heart pounds in his chest and when he's finished he decides to loop back around to delay going outside, just enough so that if he does start hallucinating again he wouldn't have a panic attack on the ground.

He pulls out his phone as he walks down the aisle and texts Scott, telling the man he'd be a little later than he thought. He doesn't bother to send a reason and knows Scott will ask when he finally does get to his house but he knows he'll go insane if he walks out by himself. He gnaws at his lip before he makes his way to the cash register. He knows the guy checking him out and holds up a half-decent conversation about school with the graduate but his mind is elsewhere, eyes nervously flicking towards the door. There weren't nearly enough people here after school, he should've waited, should've waited for Scott or for after work hours. He just should've waited. If he waited he wouldn't feel like he was losing his mind. He said goodbye to the cashier and eyes the door warily before inhaling and gathering his courage, there was nothing even out there, except a few cars and people who lived here, who knew Stiles as the Sheriff's son. He knows it's his mind messing with him when he gets to his jeep with only the workers car and three other cars sitting outside. He rests his head against the side of his jeep and closes his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He was losing grip on reality, he was crazy. There was no other reasonable explanation at this point there really wasn't. He placed the bags in his car, clenching his hands into fist when he notices the way they trembled uncontrollably.

"It's all in your head." He whispers to himself. "Keep it together, Stiles." He begs himself. He doesn't need them more worried and he doesn't need to fall apart not right now. Not when his father was under review for his job. His father could lose his job and Stiles certainly didn't need to add anymore stress onto his father's plate. Everything was already falling apart before him, Stiles couldn't afford to crumble as well. He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales heavily through his mouth, gaining that hold he's so used to having on his emotions. As he promises himself he'll be okay, that it's all in his head, that nothing would touch him, that Scott wouldn't let anyone touch him, that everything will work out. And part of him is afraid he's lying to himself because something doesn't feel quite right, nothing ever feels completely right to him. Stiles quickly checks over the cars in the lot and lets out a breath he didn't realize he held while he double checked his surroundings. He was safe, he's always been safe.

* * *

"Shhh!" Scott all but hisses at his friends when they enter the house, instantly silencing the three of them. Lydia, Allison and Issac look at him and he points to where Stiles is curled up on his couch fast asleep. "I was just about to put him upstairs but I'm kind of afraid he'll wake up if I pick him up."

"When did he get here? I thought you said he'd be here later."

"He didn't know when he'd get here, he only got her a few minutes, he passed out when I went to get a movie." There's a few of them piled on top of the table in front of the couch and Lydia smiles softly.

"Good." She whispers. "He hasn't been sleeping well, we can all see that." Issac nods, the werewolves could smell the exhaustion on the boy and everyone saw the bags under his eyes but he was sleeping better than when the...the nightmares were getting to him. They knew he was recovering from the lack of sleep and the nightmares and honestly, it was more than a little concerning. It was worrisome, to see Stiles forget to eat or just rest on Scott's shoulder instead of eating at lunch. There were days where it was worse than others. Like today, Issac caught Stiles checking out the window several times and Lydia noticed him paused in his writings as he looked at the floor confused. They had gotten worried about him but said nothing, kept their worries to themselves. They all see the annoyance and irritation when they would ask about him and eased up a little, giving him some space. It didn't seem to help much but the way he'd smile when they handed him food or threw a utensil at him to eat his food, or when they would sneak some curly fries and a burger in for him he'd grin so wide they felt like he was doing better and of course they'd have something for everyone else.

"We can head out and you can text us when he wakes up." Issac tells Scott who looks over to Stiles. "Or we could stay." Issac offers anyway and smiles softly, looking over to the sleeping teen, who's eyes flicker under his lids as he dreams. Scott nods and the three of them hurry up the stairs, trying to be quiet while they grab what they need from Issac's room and then in Scott's room. Issac is the first to come down, running to the kitchen. When the girls come down he's half done with his sandwich and they steal chips from him. Scott laughs with them quietly and they talk in hushed voices as to not disturb their friend. The sound of a car squealing away startles the four teenagers and awakes the teen, who all but jumps off the couch, stumbling to his feet as his heart pounds in his chest. Scott's by him in a second.

"You're okay." Scott reassures. "It was a car." Issac opens the door to look at a confused Derek, who's staring down the street. Stiles blinks sleep from his eyes and rubs at them, muttering out an apology and sliding to sit down.

"You alright? What happened?" Issac calls out to Derek who shakes his head and turns to him, walking up to the door.

"I have no idea. I was driving down the street and this car just pulls away. I don't know what was going on but it doesn't matter." Derek says and Stiles licks his lips, looking down to the ground, thoughts running through his head. "I need to talk with you." The oldest werewolf says, directing his look towards Scott. Scott, who still has his hand wrapped around Stiles' bicep, who is biting his own look and looking at Stiles concerned.

"Yeah, okay." He says but doesn't look at Derek. Derek shuts the door and raises his brows.

"Is everything okay?" He questions and Issac shuffles his feet while the girls walk to sit down.

"Want to watch a movie?" Allison asks as Lydia searches through the pile. Stiles snaps his head up and grins nodding, while he shakes Scott off of him, helping to choose the movie. Scott hesitates before he gets up and follows Derek into the kitchen. He focus his hearing on Stiles and the girls, making sure his friend truly was okay.

"What's going on?" Scott asks the man who looks back into the living room where Stiles and Lydia are disagreeing over which movie to watch and Issac is relaxing between them while Allison looks like she's done with them.

"Is everything okay?"

"He was just sleeping, I think the car startled him. I just...I don't know what's going on in his head. I don't know if he's as okay as he looks or if he's worse than he looks or if he's fairing better than he looks and it scares me." Derek licks his lips and nods in understanding.

"He'll be fine. The twins and I were practicing near the outskirts of town after school. Ethan went out with Danny and Aiden said he had stuff to do so I figured you needed to know now and not tomorrow but we think a pack's closing in. We don't know if it's curiosity or needing to pass by but it could be dangerous and we thought you should know before it's a surprise." Scott looks up a little worried at Derek's words. He had no clue what he was supposed to do. "Don't worry, the twins and I will help you through this. It's not a concern right now, I just felt like you should know."

"Are these usually a threat?"

"No." Derek says shaking his head. "Not usually. Trust me, Scott, it's probably not a concern but you're the Alpha now, you need to know this stuff." Scott stares at Derek and nods, Derek promised to teach him.

* * *

It's just Stiles and Scott when Issac leaves to make sure the girls got home safely, Scott had informed them all about what could but might not happen and it was calm and quiet now that everyone was gone. Stiles gnaws at his bottom lip as he dares small glances towards Scott, wondering how to word what's been on his mind. Scott finally looks over with a sigh.

"Alright, what's bothering you?"

"I...in case this is something big...do you wanna...never mind it's stupid."

"Stiles, what is it?"

"It's just...when you came over to get a ride it was a lot easier to get to school on time and...I liked the company." Stiles confesses, his voice quiet and Scott knows. Scott knows that there's something he's not being told, that Stiles is keeping something from him but at that point all he could do was nod at his friend and agree. If it meant it would be easier for Stiles he could spend a few more weeks, months, the rest of the year going to school with Stiles every morning. Plus, Scott loves Stiles, Stiles is his brother, and it made for a great excuse to make sure Stiles slept a few more nights and a few more hours than he probably currently one.

"Well, in that case, if you wouldn't mind driving me to school in the morning I'll be showing up thirty minutes early to have you check my Math." Stiles smiles and nudges Scott.

"You didn't even do your math." He accuses the wolf who laughs at him. "I did your math."

"And you'll double check it." Stiles throws his head back in laughter and Scott can't help but beam. This was the Stiles he was used to and his friend hadn't gone anywhere, hadn't been broken. Sure there were some bruises, visible bags under his eyes but he didn't need glue he just needed to be reminded he was important, he just needed his family and friends and they weren't going anywhere if Scott had any say in it.

* * *

AN: This was honestly the hardest thing I've written in a while. I do this to you every sequel so this better be the last one. It's a trilogy and it better not go any further. I have a small idea what I'm going to do with this. I won't tell you anything but let me know what you think. All mistakes are my own, I proof-read it but I'm so tired I'm sure I missed a lot. Stiles' therapist will get a name this story...spoiler.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: First semester done. This was supposed to be up a lot sooner but I was just recently(a day or so ago)struck with so much inspiration for this story it physically hurt. If there's one thing college was good for, it was definitely the help that came to write this story(and you know, learning...stuff).

All mistakes are my own and they come with an apology.

Warning: Childhood rape mentions, mentions of alcoholism.

* * *

The next day, Scott shows up in the morning and hands Stiles some bacon his mother made. The young human's eyes light up and he munches on them happily, promising a huge breakfast for Scott one morning with any type of pancakes he wanted. Scott grins at him and pulls out his math folder, which Stiles quickly snatches, eyes scanning the page quickly before closing the folder and handing it back.

"You didn't even look at it!" Scott accuses and Stiles grins, his teeth tearing into the bacon as he grabs a glass for orange juice and walks away. "Alright, I get it, you got everything right." He mumbles, packing away his folder.

"Damn right I did." Stiles says confidently through a mouthful of bacon. Scott grins at him and rolls his eyes. "Hey, Issac knows you were coming over right?" Scott frowns at the hidden concern in Stiles' nonchalant tone. The young wolf tries to figure out why his friend would be so concerned about Issac knowing, had this been a few days ago he'd have been worried. A little too worried according to Stiles about how something must be wrong but the way he hides it...it takes a beat and Stiles raises his brows at his friend, obviously waiting for an answer that never came.

"Yeah, Allison should be showing up now to pick him up." Stiles nods at that, washing out his cup as he finishes up his breakfast. "You're gonna make me pancakes tomorrow?" The laugh that Stiles barks out makes Scott pout but the smile soon overtakes his faked sadness. Everything seems almost like before after that, Stiles so relaxed and calm it was surprising but it was amazing. It was what Scott wanted. It was almost as if Stiles hadn't revealed it with the way he had acted again. It made Scott smile. The entire day goes smoothly for both boys, Stiles more than relieved with his mind having been put at ease.

He knew asking Scott to come over was the best thing for him. There was no possible way he could hallucinate about that man if Scott was by his side, if only because if he did, he'd feel far too guilty. On the other hand, if it'd been possible it's not his imagination then Scott would certainly scare away whatever it was trying to break him down. Plus, he kind of missed Scott coming over, he kind of missed a lot about it. It felt easier with Scott by his side, they were best friends after all. They actually take on the world or, at least, bad creatures that go bump in the night alongside their pack but have a vicious tendency to kill or injure innocent people or their pack. Stiles wouldn't be able to admit it out loud but being able to know that he actually had a pack, a group of friends by his side, that would willingly do so much for him, it was a bit comforting. Having Scott come over in the morning and not just their normal interceptions throughout the day, reminded him that he wasn't alone. It kind of lifted something off of his chest that he didn't know was there.

* * *

The days after that Scott shows up and the following Friday he opens the door to a not-so-bright Stiles, who eyes the banana like he'd rather go back to bed than eat. Scott eyes his tired friend who hasn't even fixed his hair or put on clothes and shook his head, shooing him to get ready. Stiles did so quickly, still not completely awake or ready for the day by the time he was sleepily munching on a banana in the front seat of his jeep, stifling a yawn as he heads towards the school. Scott talks to him, get tired grunts and grumbles in reply that make him smirk and chuckle lightly. They pull up and the sarcastic teen is still a little slouched over and tired but still his loud and flailing self and as the day drags on he wakes up, looking more and more like he did yesterday.

"No, no. Go ahead, look, make sure everyone's out there and I'll meet you on the field." Stiles tells Scott before practice, cursing himself for leaving his bag in his jeep. He knew he should've slept better but he could hear his father working on cases all night and he felt absolutely useless. He couldn't figure out what to do or how to help. He knew just as well as his father than any sucker that replaces him will be in the same position in this stupid town. He had stayed up all night and even trembled slightly when he heard the clink of a glass. If he had told his father sooner there was a possibility none of this would've happened.

He drags a hand through his hair as he jogs past Scott and out of the school, towards the emptied parking lot. It always surprised Stiles how fast the lot emptied out after school. There was always a line out the lot but right before practice the only cars remaining were whoever stayed after for extracurricular activities that day. Today was the lacrosse team which meant there'd be a few extra cars for the watchers who stayed to watch practice. It was usually girlfriends or rides home. He jogged to the car as the yells from behind him faded and he fished out his keys, the sound of a car drawing his attention. He dragged it over towards the rental and met the driver's eyes, clenching his jaw and fists by his side as FBI agent started towards him. He felt his chest tighten as he breath got caught in his chest but managed a glare towards the man. He didn't even think as he opened his jeep door and reached in for his bag, closing his eyes and getting a grip on himself. Scott would hear him the second he let out a yelp and would be here only a second later. Part of him knew it wasn't real but it still scared him, backing up how much he was evidently relying on Scott. He suddenly felt weak. A hand hit his shoulder and he spun with a gasp, fist ready to fly.

"What the fuck?" He flailed his hands a bit, grabbing at his heart. "You can't just sneak up on people like that, Danny." The young teen smiled but his eyes looked to the car turning out of the lot.

"Who was that?" He asks and Stiles licks his lips, tearing his eyes off of the goalie in front of him and towards the exit. He shook his head. "I know you know him, I was in my car when you glared at him and his little creepy slow drive to you didn't help the cause." _little creepy slow drive _rang in Stiles' ears. He was sure he was hallucinating. "Is it one of the guy from the pack that's here?" Stiles looks to Danny shocked and curious. Had he known? "It's Beacon Hills." Stiles snorted and shook his head. Jackson totally told him before he left.

"No, I don't know who it is." He lies and Danny looks back over towards the now empty exit and nods. He doesn't buy the lie but he knows when and when not to pry.

"Well, get your stuff, we've got practiced." Stiles flushes at the words and nods, grabbing his back and shutting his door. He mumbles a thanks as they walk towards the locker room. "Let me know if you need anymore help, yeah?" Stiles nods and smiles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he glances towards the closing doors. The feeling vanished from him when he made it to the bench and was bumped by Issac. The entire incident faded from memory.

* * *

"Did ya find them?" Stiles rubs his eyes as the wolves walk back into Derek's loft where the two girls are out cold against the table. He blinks the sleep from his eyes and takes in the pack's faces. "I'll take that as a no." He yawns, looking at his phone.

"There are scents all along the trail but they don't lead anywhere past a certain point and there was no one there." Aiden explains, waking up Lydia whose movements woke up Allison.

"That's bad?" He asks through a stifled yawn. Issac sits next to him, making the couch shift while Derek shakes dirt out of his hair. The werewolves were visibly tense but offered comforting smiles that Stiles was in no shape buying.

"Not bad." Ethan says, slipping next to Issac while Derek leaves the room.

"But not good either?" Stiles questions, watching the small nods. He stands and stretches, trying to wake up his body. He hadn't meant to take a nap but it had happened and now he felt stiff and sore all over. He was just waiting for them to get back so that he could make sure they didn't need help. However, with the way it had gone he thinks he would've been fine going home. Though he knows if he had gone home they probably would've needed him because that is just their luck. "Alright, well, I am heading home. I'm exhausted and it's midnight, I'm gonna be in so much trouble." Scott snorts.

"You okay to drive?" Derek asks, his voice muffled slightly by the wall in between them.

"I'll be fine." He calls back with a rolls of his eyes before turning towards Scott and talking normal. "Call me if you need anything. If not, I'll see you guys at school." It isn't until he's halfway home does he remember not telling anyone about his incident in the parking lot. He brushes it off, it really wasn't all that important. The only thing that really bothered him was the _little creepy slow drive _that Danny had witnessed, creepy enough to actually make Danny go help him. That bothered him more than anything. He ran a hand through his air with a sigh as he parked his jeep, staring at his dad's cruiser and grabbing his bag. Well, his dad couldn't possibly be that upset and he'd just explain about the pack. He seriously is debating telling his father, the man has enough on his plate with work, if the pack wasn't attacking and wasn't even truly entering past a certain point there was no reason to get his father worked up yet. He would have to worry about it when it happens, not now.

He pushed open the door to the dimly lit house, only one light on and ducked his head, swallowing. He was glad he had finished his homework with Lydia and Allison, all he wanted to do was look at some of his dad's files, see if he could help and sleep. Maybe he'd make the pack some breakfast for tomorrow. He'd have to debate it, it was a Saturday anyway. The entire pack would sleep in, giving him enough time to whip something up and invite them all over for a nice relaxed morning. He stops at the door when he sees the half empty liquor bottle and swallows, cleaning up the mess and thumbing through the papers and files his father had left out. He licks his lips and pushes the chair in with his foot, still standing over the table, reading through words written on a page that don't actually process in his brain. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes, finishing his clean up before leaving the room with one more glance towards the table. He reasons that the bottle wasn't completely full to begin with so it might'nt have been too much. Just enough to relax and he's more than once gave his dad just enough so there was no reason to be upset, in fact, it was rather hypocritical. He switched off the light and ran to his room.

He stops to peek in and make sure his father is asleep and safe in his bed, sighing when the man is. Once he's in his own bed he stares up at the ceiling, losing himself in his thoughts. Before he can get past Danny he jerks up in his bed with a gasp, the sudden urge crawling under his skin and toying with his mind, manipulating him out of the bed. He closes his window, locking it and then continues to check every room in the house, behind every door, even the closet, careful to not make too much noise. He's never really had the urge in his house before, not really. He's had it in Scott's, a lot, especially when McCall was around. He even glances out the front and back windows, as if expecting him to pop up but knowing he wouldn't. Even if he were here, he wouldn't risk it while Stiles' father was here. Stiles knew that. Once his house was secure in his head he retreated back to his room, licking his lips and hating himself for giving into the urge. Rolling over to his side he draws his knees in a bit, stopping himself from curling into a ball.

Suddenly, after tonight, the parking lot doesn't seem all that important. How could it be? Stiles' imagination wasn't all that important. There was a pack looming outside, waiting, he didn't know but he knew the wolves were getting a little anxious and worried about it. His father was this close to losing his job, not that anyone here or anywhere would be able to do a better job. His dad's already lost his job once because of Stiles but it clearly has his father on edge. Enough that his father drank. A little hallucination and a guy driving slow? That was nothing, it didn't even get a one on the scale of importance. It just simply wasn't important. Stiles could damn well handle his own mind and himself. Him going crazy didn't mean he had to burden anyone with it, plus, he had his therapist. He knows he gets off track but if it really bothered him this much, he could tell her and he'd...get over it. Or whatever he had to do to get it off his mind. He stared at the wall until his eyes slipped shut and sleep took over.

* * *

John Stilinski was startled out of his sleep by screaming which he instantly recognized as his son. He was out of his bed and on his feet without a thought, running towards his son's room and just managing to miss collision with the wall. Words were hidden in the strangled sobs, words that filled the father with guilt as he opened the door and woke his son. The young boy shot back word, a plead falling from his lips. The sleep faded from the tear-filled, scared eyes and was quickly replaced with guilt as an apology slipped out.

"You okay?" Stiles nods at his fathers question and the man frowns, looking out the window as he leaned against the wall. He felt helpless, he didn't know how to help his son. The kid was right in front of him, staring at his lap, blinking tears from eyes and he was still searching for ways to help. And he couldn't. "Want to talk about it?" Stiles looks up at him finally, face too mature for the young boy his son was.

"It was just a nightmare, I'm fine. Sorry, I woke you."

"Don't be." He reassures with a small nod. "What time did you get in last night?" A wave of guilt crashes over him as he realizes he must've gone off to bed before his son came home. His mind reminds him off the mess he left in the kitchen when he had gotten too frustrated to continue with the papers. He thought with his insight into the supernatural he'd be able to solve another case, prove himself but he hadn't been able to. He can't exactly say 'werewolves' or 'banshees' whatever the hell that was. He had drank, more than the night before. Too much, the night before he had a sip before he poured it out because he knew his son still needed him to be sober. The night before he remembered the look on his son's face when he admitted that he'd been placed into the care of a man who violated him, who _raped _him. He hadn't been able to drink, not with Stiles in the house, not when Stiles would feel absolutely betrayed.

Last night though, he had been in the house. Thinking about every case, about how he let that happen to his son and he figured Stiles would be with Scott for the night. If Stiles was with Scott, Stiles was safe. It was something John knew Stiles knew. He figured a few drinks wouldn't be that bad, he'd calm down a little bit, he'd clean up and he'd go to bed. Stiles would never know. But a few drinks kept multiplying and he didn't remember cleaning up. Meaning Stiles did know and John felt terrible. He didn't need drinks to help him, not if it meant hurting Stiles. He'd remind himself of the last time he drank and he wouldn't touch alcohol.

"Little after midnight." Stiles admits. "We were at Derek's."

"Is everything alright?" He liked to stay updated on what his son was involved in now. He wanted to know how much danger his son was in, especially after that NightMare crap he almost killed himself over. He didn't want to be unaware of what his son was doing with these werewolves, even if he knew he couldn't convince Stiles out of it, he might be able to convince Stiles to think a bit before jumping in head first.

"Yeah, everything is fine." He eyes his son who pushes blankets and wipes at his face, glancing at his phone. "I'm gonna make breakfast for the pack, do you have work?" Stiles runs a hand through his hair and the sheriff isn't sure if his son wants him to stay or leave.

"Not until later." Stiles nods and looks to the floor before smiling at him.

"Alright, let me take a shower. I'll let you know when it's done if you want to go back to be. S-" The teenager clears his throat, cutting off his apology and leaving his father in the hallway as he makes his way to the bathroom. Sleep? After that? No way. He sighs when he realizes he had really hurt his son by drinking. Without a second thought he heads down to the kitchen and pours the alcohol down the drain, letting the water of the sink wash it away before tossing it out. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Stiles, Stiles was all he had left. He doesn't know if he wishes Claudia was here or if he's glad she didn't have to see how badly he'd messed up with their kid.

AN: I've actually debated putting in Kira(even if I don't care for her perse) so if she makes a surprise appearance blame the fingers not the writer. I'm not gonna say I'm back, not gonna say I'm not back. But I hope you like it? Let me know? Maybe. And if you wanna see something, that's what you can do. I don't promise request fills but I get intrigued by good ideas.

Also, anyone know Agent McCall's actual name? Or is calling him McCall/Him/that man/etc a-okay?


End file.
