A/N: Hello! This is another TW fic. This one is pretty much full of angst. I have caught up until the summer season, not yet start the winter season because uni sucks. This fic is unbeta-ed. I hope this fic is understandable. This fic is crossposted on AO3 under the same title.
Also as a warning, this fic mentions panic attacks (not detailed).
Hope you enjoy this!
Brief explanation on ideas behind this fic on A/N at the end.
Ever since his mother died, Stiles could not quite remember a night in which he had a truly peaceful sleep. There were nightmares for the first few months and then panic attacks in betweens and also during the days. It was not until the few years then that he truly believed that he had his life under control once again. The nightmares were only during rare occasions. Most of the things were no longer a trigger for a panic attack. His mother died and left a gaping hole inside his heart, but he was fine really. He still had his dad with him after all and he was halfway through his senior year. His life remained constant and while it might be a frustrating thing for some people because it was not improved in anyway, Stiles was relieved enough that it didn't get any worse.
And yet, when he woke up that morning, Stiles could not help but felt that something had changed and it was not right.
There was nothing different from his room, he noticed. His laptop was still where he left it last night. His room was still in an organised chaos he preferred. His worn jeans over the back of the chair, the t-shirt he wore yesterday. The leftover he ate a couple of nights ago inside a trash bin that he hadn't had a chance to empty just yet.
Nothing changed. He felt like he had just woken up from a very long deep sleep. He didn't remember whether he woke up in the middle of the night or whether he had any dream last night. It was quite bizarre. He had never felt fully rested like this before. It was actually the first real peaceful night he had since forever.
But still something was not right.
There was no time to ponder about it though since it was time to get ready for school.
-o-o-o-
Stiles was held back for a year in elementary school but then, once he was diagnosed with ADD and got his medications, he became a straight As student. He knew that he was smart, but he also knew that he didn't look like he was. He rambled when he was nervous. He flailed his arms when he talked. He never got over his awkward walking phase with the sudden growth of all his limbs. But he didn't really care much about what other people thought of him really. He really didn't, except the bitter fact that those traits made him undesirable as a friend.
He was used on being alone. Moving from one class to another without anyone besides him. He had acquaintances, yes. But they were all just that. Acquaintances. Nothing more. Nothing less. He talked to them and had conversations but that was it. He didn't even think that he had ever had someone to accompany him for lunch.
But today was a strange day and despite the facts that he knew—being alone, no friends, always having lunch alone—it just didn't feel right. It felt like there was an itch he just couldn't scratch. His room felt weird. Now school felt the same.
As Stiles went to his locker, he felt someone eyes on him so he looked around the slowly dispersing crowd in the hallway. It took him a few seconds before he found that someone who drilled holes on the back of his head. It was Scott McCall. Stiles frowned. He had known McCall since elementary school but they had only exchanged a few words. Stiles didn't know what to do with the weird look that the guy gave him so he decided to grin, however awkward, and tried to make a questioning face.
What he got as an answer from McCall though was a sad, pained expression. Stiles felt an unreasonable pang of guilt. McCall looked like a puppy that had been kicked. What the hell did Stiles do? Stiles contemplated whether he should ask or just say sorry to McCall whatever he had done wrong but before he had made his decision, McCall turned away and half-ran to the opposite end of the hallway. His shoulders were tense and Stiles chewed on his lips.
His day had got even stranger.
-o-o-o-
Stiles was not very surprised though when his day didn't get any less weird. First, was McCall in the morning. And then it was the transfer student, Allison Argent who kept sneaking glances at him during their shared AP English class. Cora Hale whom he shared history with kept looking at him like she wanted to punch him. Afterwards, it was McCall again who shared chemistry at him, looking at the empty seat next to Stiles but just looked pained again and walked away to sit beside that Lahey kid who also just looked at him like Stiles had smashed his favourite toy.
As if that was not weird enough, the freaking genius and beautiful Lydia Martin, whom he had a crush on since third grade, gave him an awkward smile. Stiles almost fell from his seat because Lydia Martin just actually smiled at him. Smiled. He was non-existent in Lydia Martin's eyes, so what with the sudden change?
He felt like he should be ecstatic when Lydia Martin smiled at him, but instead he felt numb and there was a dull ache. His heart ached for something but he didn't know what or why. He had no idea and it frustrated that he didn't know the answer but he could not just ask McCall, Argent, Lahey and Lydia Martin. He just could not because they were not friends.
That statement never felt so wrong in his mouth.
-o-o-o-
When school was over for the day, Stiles was so eager to just go home and just take a break from the weirdness he experienced today. He had no clue why and it was exhausting. But apparently, the odd day was not over yet. Stiles was about to unlock his blue jeep when suddenly felt another someone stared at him. McCall had stared at him, not so subtlety, for about five times today. If it was McCall again, he would seriously just stalk over him and ask what did he want actually.
But, it was not McCall. It was a man on the other side of the parking lot. He wore a leather jacket over his grey shirt, leaning back against a black camaro. His body was well-toned, with straight bold lines and days worth of stubbles. His eyes were hard. He knew the man. It was Derek, Cora Hale's brother and he was gorgeous. Stiles felt himself blushing and suddenly he just had no clue what he was supposed to do. What was wrong with people and all their staring today?
But then, Derek Hale didn't stop at just staring. He walked toward him and Stiles began to panic because what did he do seriously? He knew Derek Hale, but everyone in Beacon Hills knew Derek Hale because of the Hale Fire that happened almost 8 years ago, and also because of the serial murders case that happened a couple of years ago and involved Derek as a suspect once.
Stiles was still thinking hard of what might he did wrong while at the same time trying to not panic when Derek stopped in front of him. Stiles could now see how his brows were furrowed deep. While the jaw was set tight and his body was rigid, Stiles could see the underlying pain behind those weirdly-coloured eyes of Derek. Derek inhaled deeply, like he was smelling something and then he gritted his teeth even harder. Stiles had no clue what to do.
"You are safe now," said Derek clear out of nowhere and then without waiting for Stiles' reply or question, he walked away, got into his camaro and drove out of the high school parking lot, leaving Stiles dumb-founded with throbbing pain right at his heart.
It took several times to start his jeep and it took all of his energy to keep breathing while driving back home. It took him several more times as well to enter his house key and when he succeeded, Stiles could barely remember to close the door. He ran as fast as he could to his still odd bedroom. When he was in the safety of his bedroom, Stiles just dropped to the floor and felt tears running down his cheeks. He felt such an overwhelming sadness—also unexpected anger—and it was consuming him that he almost could not breathe.
But still, even after he had calmed down and his dad came home—somehow with the same sad eyes directed at him, not unlike what others had given him—he had no idea why he would feel such emotions at all.
-o-o-o-
After that day, his life didn't get any stranger but it didn't get back to how it used to be. There was underlying sadness which reminded him of those days after his mother died. The odd people consisting of McCall, Argent, Cora, Lahey and Lydia Martin kept sneaking glances at him but didn't do anymore than that, so Stiles learnt to just ignore the feeling of having someone looking at his back. It took him several days but he did it. Derek Hale never came to school again and never gave some kind of explanation on what he said to Stiles that day.
Stiles didn't know what changed the day he woke up and it agitated him.
-o-o-o-
A couple of weeks after, Stiles began to have dreams. It was not nightmares and he could not remember what his dreams about. All he could remember was the feelings and the impressions which were so jumbled up together it was not supposed to make any sense but it did. Joy, sadness, grief, pain, loneliness, hope. The impression of feelings were there and it always made Stiles felt so sad and angry when he woke up. But it was not nightmares. It was not. Because despite the sorrow and anger he felt, there was an even stronger feeling of longing. Longing for what he would never know.
One night, the dream was as clear as it could be. There were many words inside his head he could not remember. There were whispers. There were screams. Even though it was a dream, he felt like his head would really explode any seconds. It was a nightmare. One sentence kept echoing his head, resonating from deep within his soul to his mind to his heart.
When Stiles woke up the next morning (or maybe sometimes in the middle of the night), he was crying like he never did before and he could not breathe. He remembered his dad being there but he could not remember much of that time except the lingering sentence inside his mind he could never forget.
"You knew too much."
-o-o-o-
Stiles got accepted to Columbia and he told his dad about that. He also got accepted to several other top universities but he had chosen Columbia. His dad nodded in acknowledgement and smiled, saying that he was very proud of Stiles. He could see the sadness that lingered in his dad's eyes, had seen it since that Day, but Stiles pretended that it was mostly because his Dad was sad that Stiles would move to New York then, far from Beacon Hills. He didn't know whether there was going to be someone else who attend Columbia. He could not help but wonder about where would McCall, Argent, Cora, Lahey and Lydia go. They still had not stopped with the lingering looks despite months after. There were times in which they just didn't go to classes and times in which they looked bruised. Stiles was curious but they were not his friends so he would mind his own business.
He graduated from high school with the second highest GPA after Lydia Martin, who despite being weird and paying attention to him was still the most beautiful and the most clever person he had ever known. He smiled as she finished her graduation speech and then for a second she stopped walking to her seat and looked conflicted. But then Lydia gave him a tight smile and walked away quickly. Stiles didn't even bother to think the reason behind said action now.
Stiles went home with his dad after the graduation ceremony. Right before he entered his dad's car, he caught a glimpse of Derek Hale. He stopped and looked and indeed there he was, still looking as gorgeous up close. He looked at Stiles with the same odd expression he gave him months ago. Stiles raised his hand in a wave and then entered his dad's car. His dad looked at him weirdly at first and then with a rough voice asked whether he knew Derek Hale. Stiles just shrugged. As they drove away, Stiles looked through the backside mirror and saw Derek surrounded by his sister, McCall, Argent, Lahey and Lydia. Somehow it reminded him of a family, despite how weird and how dysfunctional it would be. The word pack suddenly crossed his mind and Stiles almost laughed because did he seriously just use that word to describe that odd group?
His dad glanced at him again, but Stiles didn't say a thing. He keep looking at the odd group until the car turned and they were no longer in sight. The sense of longing didn't leave him at all.
-o-o-o-
Stiles loved Beacon Hills but when it was time to leave for New York, Stiles felt relieved. The happy memories he had with his family could not measure against the sadness he associated with Beacon Hills after his mother died. Beacon Hills would always still be a home to him, as this was where his dad lived, but he was really eager to start a new life somewhere far without any lingering sadness.
As Stiles looked at his now bare bedroom and then glanced at his plane tickets, he suddenly thought about the Odd Group he now dubbed as Pack. He hadn't seen them much since graduating and yet as he was about to leave Beacon Hills, he had this sudden urge to tell them. But they were not friends. They were not acquaintances either. They were somewhere in-between Stiles didn't know what.
Feeling a bit ridiculous though, Stiles tore a paper out of his notebook and wrote down a few sentences. He folded the note and put it on his now bare desk, pretending like someone was going to come and read it. He took his remaining luggages and looked around his bedroom. He still felt the sudden alarm of how wrong everything was even after all this months.
As he closed the door to his bedroom, Stiles felt glad that he would not be home for a very long time. Because then, he would not need to confront how wrong everything was.
END.
A/N: So yeah. This fic pretty much is about how Stiles gained too much information and it would kill him unless his memories are altered. So yeah. It was not only his memories though, but also some people around them to make sure that nothing would trigger the memories and information back to Stiles and kill him.
Thanks for reading!