A/N: I don't know why I am in such a bad mood, but this is what I have created. I have another story sort of similar to this but it has a different approach from a specific pack member to actually help Stiles. Warning: rape/non-con elements.
One night. All it took to change Stiles Stilinski's life forever was a few moments one night. He was just beat up by Gerard. He was hurt, in pain and no one had bothered to even text him and ask how he was doing. Not that he would tell them the truth, but he had been fooling himself for a long time when he thought that he mattered to the pack, the people who were his friends, the closest thing to a family he had. That was what hurt the most, if he was being honest with himself.
So, when he had heard of a party that was going on the next night, he decided to go, get shit-faced, and focus on how he was going to get on without the pack, since he was done with them. However, at one point during the night, he knew he had had way too much, so he went to find a bathroom, ending up in the master bedroom. When he was done puking and could pick himself off of the floor, he noticed that someone was in the room with him. He couldn't stand properly let alone fight off the man, even though he tried. When that failed and he was pushed down onto the bed, hands undoing his jeans, he thought he could scream for help, but he knew that it was useless over the loud beat of the music pumping all over the large house of whoevers party this was. He hadn't realized he had started crying until a clicking noise rang through his ears and large hands were firmly on his hips.
There was no warning, no prep, the man was inside of him in one fell swoop, and all Stiles could do was scream out in agony and snap his hips forward in a useless attempt to stop what was happening in the room that night. His tears mixed with his snot as his body began to protect him the only way it could and allow him to black out. The last thing he heard the man say was a deep "fuck Stiles, you feel so good" into his ear.
It had been a week since that night, and Stiles felt like it had just happened as it basically did every time he closed his eyes. All he could see was the man above him. All he could feel was the weight of the man on top of him, of him inside of him. All he could hear was that door clicking, sealing his fate, and those last words he heard before he blacked out.
He knew he couldn't tell his friends, at least not right away. When he first woke up, all he could think about was finding his friends, forgiving them for not noticing his pain, and he was going to tell Scott when he had called early the next morning. Except all his best friend called to ask him about was when he would have the research for the pack about the next case they had to solve. Stiles couldn't even speak for a moment, grunting out that he would drop it off at Scott's house later that day, then Scott hung up on him.
His whole body was sore, from Gerard's torture, but Stiles knew certain pains were caused by something else. He had spent the whole morning in a scalding shower, trying to rub any part of the man off of him, but he was sure the man was Still all over him in ways he could never erase and so he eventually broke down in the shower, his whole body shuddering with the sobs that wracked his narrow frame.
When he made it to Scott's house that night, all the werewolf did was take the papers, look Stiles up and down, ask if he was okay and accepted whatever lame excuse Stiles gave him.
A week later, and he hadn't been to school. His dad was furious with him, but didn't really do anything about it and he had got a couple calls and texts from different pack members but no voice mails, no visits and no real questions about how he was doing, just more about if he could do research, or why he was acting this way and ignoring them.
When he finally decided to go to school, the whole pack barely acknowledged his presence, which made him more angry than hurt at this point. What exactly gave them any right to decide that he was unworthy of their time. He had come with their precious research. He was going to give them a chance and tell them in hopes of having some support, but all he got was this? So instead of sulking about and trying to earn back their friendship like the old Stiles would have done, all he did was throw his research on Scott's desk, as he had him for his last period, look him in the eye, and said "No more."
However, when he got back to his jeep, all he did was throw his backpack to the floor and Press the palm of his hands to his eyes in a futile attempt to stop the tears. He truly had no one, and that just made everything worse, but he decided that outright having no one was better than being surrounded by people who held no true feelings for him like he did for them. He was going to have to face what had happened to him alone as well as dealing with the loss of what he though was his family.
