A/N Set after season 3b. The freaky similarities between Teen Wolf and My Babysitter's A Vampire have led me to believe that either their universes are pretty close together in the multiverse or Stiles is Benny grown up. I'm going with the latter. Welcome to part 6 of the Identity Crisis series.

"-so if you hear this, please, Benny, we need your help."

In a small town named Beacon Hills, in a house at the edge of the woods, Stiles sat down hard, burying his head in his hands. These past few months so far had been a series of events that were spiraling out of control fast.

He'd still been dealing with the fallout of the- incident only a few months ago, when his father had sat him down and told him that his grandmother had woken up.

Stiles remembered the conversation clear as day. Dad had sat with him, looked at him with the serious look he only reserved for father-son talks and holy junk food, and he'd started talking.

"You remember those years you spent in Canada after your mother died?"

Stiles did. He also remembered how that ended, and had flinched at the thought. They never really talked about it.

"I know how sad you were, to have to leave the life that you had built there."

Stiles had argued, thinking it was Dad being self-deprecating again.

"I got over it, Dad. Besides, I was missing you, I would've come home soon anyway, I just hoped it wouldn't be because..."

Stiles remembered clearly. It was a time before 'Stiles' had existed, he'd had friends and a life there nestled between the supernatural. But after his grandma had fallen into a coma and it became clear she wouldn't wake up for some time, Stiles had no guardian and went back to his dad in Beacon Hills. It was simple. Then why did it have to be so hard?

And okay, maybe it was irresponsible for him to leave without a word, without warning, and with no note left behind. But he couldn't bring himself to say goodbye. He wasn't ready, he never would be.

"That's what I wanted to tell you, son. Your grandmother's awake."

That had been the beginning.

The next day, the phone rang.

It normally wouldn't be cause for alarm, though there was always the possibility of it being a serial killer. But this- this was Benny's phone.

In the months after he'd left Whitechapel in had been constantly ringing, buzzing, blinking but Stiles couldn't bear to answer or even silence it. That was years ago, over time it had gone completely silent. Stiles had kept it as a reminder of what he'd left behind.

But right now it was ringing again. Stiles could only stare at it, in hesitant surprise, until it went to voicemail.

"Benny!" Ethan's voice sounded over the speakers, sounding urgent, and Stiles' heart clenched hearing his voice again. "Benny, I know you haven't answered any calls before, and I don't know if you're- dead in some basement or-"

Ethan's voice broke, and he took a moment before he went on. "Point is, maybe you're alive. Maybe you're listening to this. And if you are, you're the only person who could fix this. So if you hear this, please, Benny, we need your help."

Ethan had been his best friends for a good three years. Helping him recover from his mom's death, and with moving away from his life and previous best friend in Beacon Hills after Social Services deemed Sheriff Stilinski unfit for guardianship. They'd stuck together through thick and thin and Stiles would always regret having to move back.

And now that same guy was asking for his help. The fleeting thought that it was a trick rang though his mind, that it was just to lure him out..

But it was gone as soon as it came. The alarm and not-quite-panic in Ethan's voice was something that was very familiar to Benny. And even if it was... Stiles had done enough running and hiding. His friends deserved to know the truth.

It's not like he didn't think about them. Stiles thought about his life in Whitechapel often, even in the last few years.

Everything around him reminded him of what he'd walked away from. The school trophies, the disbanding if the Beacon High Hockey Team. It's why he couldn't stand to be around Erica for long- she kept reminding him of the other Erica that turned her life around and took control of it.

Right now, when Derek was as reclusive as ever, Lydia kept avoiding him, Isaac had left the country to get away from everything and even Scott, who was trying so hard, couldn't look him in the eye, he needed something to focus on and to not think about the feeling of having been violated in the worst way crawling over his skin every day for the past months.

Stiles slowly walked over to the phone, that had been lying on a shelf in his room forever. Stiles never forgot it, though. For some reason, maybe some sort of twisted hope he kept charging it every time. It was only when he raised his hand that he noticed he was shaking.

He hesitated. Facing the past... When had that ever worked out well for anyone?

We need your help.

Stiles picked up the phone.

The cool metal surprised him. It was so real, and for some reason Stiles hadn't expected it to be. Which was stupid, really.

Ethan was still on speeddial. It only took a few clicks. The phone rang once, twice...

Ring.

Ring.

Click.

"Welcome to the voicemail of Ethan Morgan." Stiles froze for a moment, nostalgia overtaking him together with a deep longing. He recognized this voicemail, it was from years ago. The messages he'd left on this thing...

"I somehow can't reach the phone right now, even though I can allegedly hack into a satalite in minutes."

Stiles would've laughed at that, albeit weakly, but seeing as Ethan had just called him not one minute ago asking for help chilled Stiles from inside out. What if he was too late?

"Please leave a message after the beep, and I'll call you back as soon as Benny stops changing my phone's language. Seriously, Benny!"

Beep.

Stiles choked on his words, but finally managed to say something through the overwhelming guilt and regret. It came out more stable and confident than he'd expected it to.

"I'm on my way, Ethan."