The Blessed Unknown

by Fantasy's Magic

There's more to Stiles than what meet's the eye, more than what even he himself has realised. When a witch kidnaps him, he learns just how powerful he really is - and what he really is. But the witch wants what he has, and will maim, kill, and destroy anything in her path to get it. Including Stiles.

1. Chapter 1

"Alright, so we'll meet outside the house at three-thirty, okay?"

A chorus of "yes", "yeah", and "whatevers" sounded in the hallway and Scott smiled with a nod. "Okay, we'll see each other then!" The group split and each member made their way to their afternoon class. Scott stared after them for a brief moment before picking up his bag and heading towards his own class in biology just around the corner. Stiles watched as they disappeared into classrooms and around the corner of the hallway, before he quickly shoved his books into his bag, slammed his locker shut, and raced after Scott.

"Hey now," he said, his shoes squeaking on the floor as he came up beside him. "Don't forget Stiles. I'm not gonna suffer biology with Mrs. MacMillon by myself."

Scott grinned. "Wouldn't wish that fate on anybody."

"Darn right. Except maybe Peter."

"Or Deucalion."

"Or Theo."

"Or Kate."

"It would've been great to have seen Derek get yelled at by h –." Stiles broke off as they walked into the classroom, both boys coming to a halt as their eyes fell on the back of a woman standing in front of the chalkboard.

A woman who was, most decidedly, not Mrs. MacMillon.

Both Stiles and Scott's eyes widened as they watched the woman write her name on the board. The blonde hair that ran down her back was as worthy as any Farrah Fawcett, and her pencil skirt and buttoned-up blouse exuded an air of stark professionalism while flawlessly retaining its femininity. The woman – their teacher? – turned around to face the class. Her eyes briefly landed on theirs and she gave them a small smile. Unlike Mrs. MacMillon, who waved around her ruler like it was still legal to give students the strap, and always wore a permanent frown on her lips, this woman looked decidedly nervous and not a little bit apprehensive. The mental fortifications that Stiles had been building up in preparation for forty minutes with Mrs. MacMillon came crumbling down and his stunned face was replaced with a lopsided grin. He turned to Scott, who was continuing to stare at the new teacher in awe, and quickly smacked his shoulder.

"Hey, you have a girlfriend, remember?" he said as they made their way to their seats. "So go away!"

"You can't go after her!" Scott retorted. "She's your teacher! Plus, what about Malia?"

"What about Malia?" Stiles asked innocently, sliding into his seat.

"Aren't you two, I don't know, 'going out'?"

"What is this?" Stiles asked, making quotation marks with his fingers, "what is this 'going out' that you speak of? I don't know of any such thing that you speak. Malia and I are just friends. She's a girl who's been living as a coyote and now needs friends to get her back to being a normal girl again. And that is all."

"Oh yeah? Then how come I saw you two kissing by your jeep yesterday?"

"I told you, she needs help learning to be human again. Kissing is merely a part of that learning process."

Scott rolled his eyes and the two took out their books. Glancing around the room, Stiles could see that nearly every single student was staring at their teacher with wide eyes and growing smiles on their faces, as they realised that they weren't going to be taught by Mrs. MacMillon.

"Good afternoon class," the woman began as the last student entered the room and closed the door. Her voice was quiet and her fingers were clenched, betraying her nervousness. For the first time in his life, Stiles actually felt bad for a substitute teacher. "My name is Alicia Givens. I'm going to be your teacher for – um, well, that is… you all may be wondering where Mrs. MacMillon is, and I just wanted to let you know that she's fine, she's okay – but she had a family issue that she had to tend to, so for the next little while I will be teaching you biology. Does anyone have any questions?"

About eight students raised their hands, Stiles one of them. Scott immediately grabbed his arm and pulled it down, giving him a look. Stiles just grinned.

"Um, yes – what is your name?" Ms. Givens asked, pointing to one of the boys who sat in the middle row.

"Daniel Richards," the boy replied.

"Yes, Daniel. What is your question?"

"How long will Mrs. MacMillon be gone for?"

"Oh, um – about, about three weeks, or so. Her family lives in Wisconsin so they're a fair distance away from here."

If it was possible, the class's smiles grew wider at her answer, friends shooting each other grins of victory at the unexpectedly good – nay, joyous – news. Stiles couldn't believe his luck; not only was he being released from the prison that was Mrs. MacMillon's biology class for three whole weeks, but he was also getting – he wasn't ashamed to admit – a very hot teacher in her place. For the first time in a while, life seemed to be giving him a gift rather than the curse that had been the past two and a half months. Or past three years, really.

Ever since Liam had been turned, Scott was spending nearly all of his free-time with the younger wolf, determined to teach him everything he knew. Stiles knew that Scott felt guilty for having turned Liam in the first place, for even though he'd said the bite was a gift, it could easily turn into a curse if you let it – either a curse for you or for someone else. Unlike Liam, Scott hadn't had his alpha to teach him everything he needed to know about this new life, so Scott was doing everything he could to be everything for Liam that Peter hadn't been for him.

Stiles admired that quality of Scott's character along with everything that he was doing for Liam, really he did. But lately Scott had been spending all his time with him; and not only with him, but with the rest of the pack, too. Malia was finally grounded enough that Scott was able to help her with her own were-coyote abilities and was teaching her how to control her animal instincts; she had been officially adopted into the pack, despite her not being a wolf. Kira was of course with them most of the time as well, not just because she was Scott's girlfriend, but because she was also a kitsune, one that was still learning to control her powers; and the only real place she could practice her powers was at the pack's loft. Even Lydia tended to spend a lot of her free time with them; she was a banshee, after all.

It was fine that they all hung out. It was great, really. Stiles understood every single person's reasons for being together and if he were in their shoes, he'd be making the same choices. He loved the pack. They were his friends – heck, they were almost like a pack to he himself; and what with there finally being a break between supernatural beings and deities that wanted to kill them, it was no wonder – in fact, it was absolutely necessary – that everyone learn how to fight and fight better; because Beacon Hills was nothing if not true to its name.

But still; no matter how much he rationalised, no matter how much he reasoned, Stiles couldn't ever fully ignore the dull ache deep in his chest when he saw everyone together or leaving for the loft. If Stiles were really honest with himself, he'd acknowledge that, deep down, a part of him didn't like seeing his best friend ditch him for everyone else; didn't like that his best friend didn't bother to ask him if he wanted to come with them; didn't like that sometimes he even said that he shouldn't come at all, especially if they were practicing with their animal instincts or something else dangerous that day. If he were honest with himself, he'd acknowledge that, maybe lately, he'd actually been feeling a bit lonely. Maybe even a little bit abandoned. And perhaps even unwanted.

But Stiles wasn't that honest.

"Alright, if there are no more questions, then let's turn to page 43 in your textbook. We'll be looking at microbiology."

Stiles walked behind Scott as they made their way out of the classroom and into the hallway; for Stiles his next period was free, but Scott had physics class on the other end of the school with Malia and Lydia. The two went to their lockers and Stiles waited as Scott switched out his books, shoving his own in his locker and slamming it shut.

"So any fun plans today?" Stiles asked as Scott closed his locker.

"Yeah, actually; we're going down to the river behind the loft this afternoon. Malia doesn't know how to swim – as a human, anyway – and there's a few places around there that are good spots for training. I found it last week."

Stiles tried to ignore the funny feeling in his stomach, pushing back the juvenile thought that wondered why he hadn't been with Scott when he found this new place, opting instead for a wide, toothy smile. "Sounds great! Did you want to hitch a ride with me and the jeep, or –."

"Actually Stiles, I was thinking it'd probably be best if… um, if you didn't… didn't come." Scott bit his lip and looked up at Stiles apprehensively, looking slightly guilty.

Stiles blinked, his smile fading away. "Oh," he said. Feeling that his tone hadn't been light enough, he tried again. "Oh, yeah – sure. Sure, that's fine."

"I'm sorry Stiles, it's just that, we'll be doing a lot of fighting, and Liam is still so new at all this and Kira's been trying some new stuff, and, well – I think it'd just be safer if you stayed at home. Is that… is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Stiles replied, forcing a grin back on his face. "I completely understand. I can't say I'm too fond of hurt Stiles, either, so it's probably the smartest thing to do."

Scott adjusted his bag on his shoulder, wrinkles of guilt still creased across his forehead. "Are you sure it's okay? You have to understand, I just don't want –."

"Dude, stop," Stiles intervened, holding up his hand. "I totally get it, okay? Don't worry about it. I'll come hang out with you guys some other time. One when everyone is less… wolfy. Or coyote-ish. Or kitsuney. So it's all good. Kapeesh?"

The tension eased from Scott's face and a tentative smile crossed his lips. "Okay. I have to get to class, so I'll see you later, 'kay?"

Stiles nodded and pointed as Scott began making his way down the hall. "You betcha buddy; later. Later is when I will see you, and when you will see me – definitely then. Later." Scott rounded the corner and disappeared. Stiles' arms fell to his side and his lower lip made its way between his teeth. He stared into the distance for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and turning arou –

SMACK.

A high-pitched squeak was heard and Stiles stumbled backwards as papers flew into the air, momentarily blinding his vision. When the papers fell he looked up to see a very startled… Ms. Givens?

Oh shit.

Stiles' eyes grew as wide as saucers and he immediately began apologising, picking up the papers as fast as he could and trying not to bend them as he gathered them into a pile. "Oh geez, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't – I totally didn't see you and –."

"Oh, no, it's alright, it's quite alright – it was an accident." Ms. Givens picked up a few papers that had fallen at her feet before taking the stack of sheets that Stiles handed to her. She gave a small, appreciative smile and Stiles swallowed, once again struck by just how pretty she was. Up close he could see that she was a bit older than he thought, a bit younger than Scott's mom, perhaps in her late thirties; nonetheless though, she remained quite easy on the eyes. Stiles internally grinned – this was going to be a great three weeks.

"So, uh, you're just filling in for Mrs. MacMillon?" Stiles asked. He honestly wasn't trying to do anything; despite what he'd said to Scott, he would never go after a teacher, and he didn't know anyone that ever actually would. Except for David Jenkins. But he'd rather not remember that unsavoury bit of drama from ninth grade, thank you very much.

"Yes," Ms. Givens replied. "She unfortunately had a family emergency, so she –."

"Had to go back to Wisconsin," Stiles finished. "Yeah, you uh, you mentioned it in class."

Ms. Given's eyes widened in recognition, then quickly lowered in embarrassment. "Oh that's right, you were in biology this last period. I'm so sorry I forgot; I'm terrible with faces. Hopefully I'll remember your name better. It's…?"

"Stiles Stilinski," Stiles said quickly, holding out his hand. Ms. Givens smiled warmly and shook it. "Yeah, biology is the only class of Mrs. MacMillon's that I'm in, unfortunately."

"Oh, well, I'll see you then, I suppose."

"Yeah, see you then."

Givens smiled and walked away, disappearing into the throng of students. Stiles watched her for a brief second before he was suddenly pushed from behind, falling unceremoniously to the floor in a heap. He heard a few kids laugh as they walked by and looked up to see Jeremy Smith, a big, broad-shouldered kid from the same year as him, smirking as he continued walking down the hall. Stiles glared at him and quickly picked himself back up.

"Yeah, yeah, let's all laugh at Stiles. Like that's never happened before." He straightened his shirt and sighed. After a moment the bell rang and the students scattered into their various rooms, doors slamming shut behind them until all was silent in the hall once more. A dark feeling washed over Stiles as he stood by his locker, and he wondered briefly whether or not he should just skip the rest of the day and go home. He thought about the hidden lake out in the woods not far from his house that he went to whenever he wanted to be alone, and how nice it would be to go and hang there for a while; nothing but him, the grass, the trees, the lake, and the warm open sky. He stared at the doorway that led out to the school's front steps for a few minutes, fingers tapping silently against his legs, before finally turning around and heading towards the library.

The rest of the day dragged by at the speed of a snail and Stiles could barely wait for the final bell to ring, his leg shaking restlessly and fingers tapping against his notebook as he watched the second hand of the clock tick closer and closer to the top. When the shrill ring of the bell finally sounded he was out of his desk like a shot and quickly ran to his locker, stuffing his books into his bag and swinging it over his shoulder as he hastily fished his keys out of his pocket. Someone opened the locker beside him and Stiles looked up to see Scott. Stiles raised his hand in greeting. "Hey Scott," he said. "Did you –."

"Sorry man, I gotta go," Scott interrupted, quickly pulling on his backpack. He gave Stiles an apologetic smile before running off towards the door. "See you tomorrow!"

Stiles blinked as Scott ran through the doors, his hand still raised in the empty air. "Yeah. See you… tomorrow." Stiles fought to keep the frown off his face, repeating to himself that Scott was busy, that he'd been busy for a while now, and that his absence wasn't unwarranted – he honestly did have somewhere he needed to be. A moment later Lydia and Malia walked by, Lydia already talking loudly on her phone. Stiles' previous disappointment fell away and a smile spread across his face as he began walking beside them. "Hello ladies," he said. "Are you doing anything before you meet Sco –."

"Stacy, just hold on a sec." Lydia put the phone to her shoulder, giving Stiles a very annoyed look. "Stiles, can't you see I'm on the phone?" Stiles sighed as Lydia went back to her conversation. The trio went through the doors and began walking down the steps. When there was a lull in her conversation, Stiles tried again.

"Hey, uh, I was just wondering – were you guys planning on doing anything before you headed to the river with Scott? It's just, there's a freakin' heat wave goin' on and I thought maybe you guys would be up for some ice-cream or something? I'll pa –."

"Oh my goodness, for all that is holy – Stiles! Would you just shut up!? Seriously! I'm trying to talk to Stacy and you won't stop interrupting! I haven't talked to her in over three months since you-know-what happened, and this is the only time we get to talk and you're ruining it!"

Guilt immediately washed over Stiles at Lydia's rebuke; yes, he did know what had happened. Stacy's father had been injured during a werewolf attack a month ago, and they'd been forced to move to New York, where the only surgeon lived who was able to heal him. The surgeries were ongoing and so as a result, Stacy wouldn't be able to return to Beacon Hills for graduation. Stiles opened his mouth to apologise, but Lydia cut him off. "Don't even try to apologise; I swear Stiles, you are the most inconsiderate person I know! Sometimes I wonder why I even hang out with you." Without a second glance Lydia went back to her phone and walked down the steps, weaving and disappearing into the crowd of students. Stiles watched the back of her head and the angry sway of her hips as she left.

"Don't worry about her."

Stiles jumped, realising that Malia was still beside him. She was staring at him intently, as she stared at most things.

"Oh, uh, no – no, I'm not worried. I've experienced Lydia's wrath probably more than anybody here, so… I'm well experienced."

"Stacy was just her best friend, aside from Allison, that is," Malia said. "She's been really worried about her since her father got hurt. She was even going to fly to New York, but her mother wouldn't let her. This is the first time they've gotten to actually talk to each other since it happened. Aside from texting."

Guilt welled up inside Stiles once more and he immediately berated himself, wishing he hadn't even bothered talking to them in the first place. He'd known that they were heading to the loft to meet with the pack, so why did he even –.

"What were you saying about ice-cream?"

Stiles blinked. "Sorry?"

"You said something about ice-cream, before Lydia yelled at you."

"Oh, I was, uh – I was just wondering if you guys had free time before you met Scott, and if you wanted to get some ice-cream... with… me."

"We can't," Malia stated matter-of-factly, her dark eyes and stoic expression never changing. "Lydia said we have to go to the mall before we meet the others. She said that, as the only woman of the group, it's her duty to show me how to be a girl again. Whatever that means."

"With Lydia, that means clothes. And makeup. And lots of it."

"Ugh." Malia rolled her eyes. "I swear, once Lydia has shown me all of this girly-nonsense, I'm going to make her learn how to roll in the mud and bathe in the river like a real female."

Stiles couldn't stop the grin that tugged at his lips as the two made their way into the parking lot.

"MALIA!" Stiles and Malia looked up to see Lydia leaning out of her window, glaring at Malia and Stiles as though they had personally caused her entire social calendar to collapse in one fell swoop. Malia let out a sigh of annoyance.

"I swear, this girl seriously needs to learn how to chill, otherwise her bowels will get constipated."

Stiles squinted and pressed his lips together. "I don't – uh, wow. I really did not need to picture that."

"Isn't that normal for humans when they get stressed?" Malia asked innocently.

"Uh, well, I uh – I haven't exactly done a lot of research on the subject, I mean, academically that is; I've had plenty of first-hand experience, with stress, that is – but I uh, I never –."

"MALIA! GET OVER HERE OR SO HELP ME, I WILL –."

"Calm down woman!" Malia shouted back. "I'll be there in a second!" She turned back to Stiles. "See you tomorrow," she said, and quickly walked over to Lydia's car. She opened the door and slipped inside, barely closing it in time before the tires screeched against the pavement and the car backed out and sped onto the road.

Stiles stood alone in the parking-lot for a moment, before slowly making his way to his jeep. He opened the door and got inside; he sat quietly for a few minutes, trying to push away the dark feeling that had begun to creep into the back of his mind and trying to ignore the tightness that had begun to squeeze his chest. After a few minutes he took a deep breath and started the jeep, backing out of his parking spot and making his way to home.

When Stiles arrived at his house he was surprised to see his dad's police car parked out front. He drew up beside it and put the jeep into park, turning the engine off. When he got inside he could hear his father moving around upstairs, his feet pounding on the floor accompanied by the sound of drawers opening and closing. A minute later he came stomping down the stairs, halting momentarily when he spotted Stiles.

"Stiles," he said, smiling briefly before making his way to the living room table. He lifted the bag he'd been carrying on top of the table and began rummaging around inside it.

"Hey Dad," Stiles said, dropping his backpack onto the floor. "What are you doing?"

"There's an issue back at the station and they're calling all hands on deck, so I'm just grabbing a few things in case I can't get back here for a couple days."

Stiles frowned. "What's the problem? Does it have something to do with –."

"No, no, I don't think it has anything to do with that. In fact I'm confident. There's just been some people that have caused problems across the state line and they're pretty sure they're going to be making their way through here, so for the next couple days we have to keep an eye out for them."

"So you're planning to stay at the station then?"

"Until we're sure where those guys are, yes. So that obviously means I won't be around much for the next few days. You think you'll be okay here by yourself?" He looked up at Stiles, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Of course," Stiles automatically responded. This wasn't the first time his dad had been forced to spend a long time away from home because of work, and Stiles knew it wouldn't be the last. He'd become a star at surviving home alone a long time ago.

"Good. Invite Scott over or something; watch a bunch of movies or play video games or whatever it is you guys like to do." He paused, then looked up with a frown on his face. "Wait, scratch that; do whatever it is that you guys like to do that's legal. That means actively try and avoid any crime-scenes, please?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Come on Dad, it's not like we actually go out looking for trouble." His dad shot him a look as he zipped up his bag. Stiles rolled his eyes. "Okay, so maybe sometimes we happen to wander onto crime-scenes more often than the average teenager, but believe me, we only ever have good intentions!"

"Right, and I like to go out for spas and manicures on my days off." John shook his head as he walked towards the door. "Just… behave yourself, okay?" He gave Stiles a quick hug and a kiss against his temple. "There's money on the kitchen table for food. Call me if you need anything." Stiles nodded and John slipped past him and out the door, closing it behind him. Stiles stayed where he was, staring at the door until he heard the sound of his dad's car start up and quickly fade away a few moments later. For the first time that day, Stiles was well and truly alone.

Stiles dropped his keys on the table and made his way up the stairs and into his bedroom, suddenly feeling more tired than he had in a long time. He fell onto his bed, curling into his blankets and sheets, wishing that he could forget the completely crappy day and crappy Scott and the crappy pack that decided they should go and do dangerous things which meant he couldn't join them because he was just a weak little human who'd get hurt, and now his best-friend was spending all his time with all these people and leaving Stiles behind to –.

Stiles growled to himself and trampled his train of thought where it was, refusing to allow himself to feel anymore self-pity than he already had. He wasn't a twelve-year-old kid anymore who needed his best-friend like he was his security blanket, and he definitely wasn't going to be jealous of any other friends that came into Scott's life, because that was just incredibly juvenile and immature and ridiculous, and Stiles refused to be any of those things. They'd come far too long a ways for that.

Of course, that meant he was left here, alone, with absolutely nothing to do. He didn't even have any homework, which was slightly odd, but Stiles would never argue against that happenstance. With all of the "extracurricular activities" that he did, it was a wonder he ever got any homework done at all. Stiles turned onto his back, a wave of exhaustion falling over him and he closed his eyes. Maybe he'd get a nap in before supper; uninterrupted sleep and regular sleep-cycles had been very sketchy in the past few months, heck, the past few years really, and if the chance arose to get some extra sleep in, who was he to argue?

Stiles had slept until nearly seven, at which point he'd gotten up and made supper. The rest of the evening had passed uneventfully, and soon Stiles was making his way into bed for the rest of the night. The next day felt like a new dawn had risen; the dark cloud that had followed him around the day before had all but dissipated, and Stiles actually felt excited for school. Well, not excited, per say, but he wasn't not happy about going. If Mrs. MacMillon's departure was all that was needed to make school feel this way, Stiles would have made a plan to remove her a long time ago.

Stiles entered the school with a broad smile on his face, hoping to catch Scott before the two broke for first period class. He made his way to his locker, hoping to see Scott at his own beside it, but was disappointed to find it empty. His eyes scanned the hallway, roaming up and down the lockers until they landed on the back of a poofy brown head, which belonged to a boy in similar stature to himself. Stiles grinned and quickly made his way towards him. "Hey Scott, I –."

"Oh my gosh, and did you see the way that Liam fell into the water? It was like, for a brief moment in time, he was actually flying."

Laughter rang out.

"Yeah, but the hilarious part was when Lydia was standing on the riverbank and the ground fell out beneath her and she fell in; seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life. One minute she was there, and the next – BAM!" Laughter resounded throughout the group again amongst Lydia's protestations of the event most assuredly not being funny, but no one paid attention. Stiles' smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly put it back on once Scott looked up and saw him. Scott grinned and waved Stiles over.

"Hey man," he said as Stiles joined the circle.

"Hey," Stiles replied. It didn't pass him by that the conversation died down as he settled beside Scott, but he purposely ignored it. "So what'd I miss yesterday?"

"Nothing much," Scott said. "Just training with each other, sparring – that sort of thing."

Stiles made a face. "Sparring?" he repeated. "Seriously? Like, in ninja movies?"

Scott chuckled. "Yeah, dude. Though it's a bit more violent than ninjas, really."

Lydia glanced at her watch, then raised her head. "Well I'm going to head to class; unlike you boys, I actually like to be on time to home-room. Come along, Malia."

Malia groaned. "Not everyone wants to be as on-time as you, Lydia."

Lydia didn't even look behind her as she walked down the hallway, and simply motioned Malia to follow. Malia sighed and gave the guys a quick wave before heading after her. Both Kira and Liam said a quick goodbye to Scott and Stiles and headed towards their own classroom; Kira gave Scott a quick peck on the cheek before she left. Finally alone, Stiles quickly jumped on the opportunity to finally talk to his best friend.

"So my dad's working nights at the station," Stiles said, grabbing his books from his locker as Scott did the same.

"Yeah?" Scott said, a hint of worry in his voice. "What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Stiles said offhandedly. At the look Scott gave him, he rolled his eyes. "Seriously. He said it has something to do with some wanted criminals across the state who might be passing through. He specifically said that it has nothing to do with the supernatural."

The creases that had formed in Scott's face eased. "Oh, good. I mean, not good that there are criminals that might be here, but –."

"Dude, easy. I know what you mean." Stiles coughed. "Anyway, so I was thinking, since my dad won't be around tonight, how would you like to come over and play some video games? I just got the new Mortal Combat extension pack that just came out; haven't even played it yet! We could order pizza, crack open a couple cokes – just hang out for a while. What do you say?"

Scott paused only for a brief moment before grinning. "Yeah man, that sounds great."

Stiles couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. "Really? Like, seriously? You don't have any wolfy-things going on tonight that you need to attend to?"

"No man; we didn't make any plans for today. Liam's going out with his girl and Lydia says she needs to work on school stuff. Even Kira's busy with her parents, so yeah – I'm totally free!"

Stiles felt as though his smile was going to break his face. "Awesome! Wanna just come over straight after school? I'm sure we could find some other stuff to do until supper."

"For sure," Scott replied. "It feels like it's been a while since we got to just hang out."

Oh, Stiles thought, so he's noticed?

"Alright then, I'll see you in biology!"

"Yeah," Scott said, starting to leave, before suddenly stopping and turning back to Stiles. "Hey, don't we have that new substitute?" he asked. "The, uh… the nice-looking one?"

"Kira ain't here Scott. So yes, we have the hot substitute for biology today. It's gonna be great!"

Scott grinned as he shook his head, then left down the hallway.

Stiles smiled as he walked to homeroom; at least today wouldn't be as crappy as the day before.

Biology, like the day before, was better than Stiles could have hoped. The fact that Mrs. MacMillon wasn't teaching had still not worn off on the students, and everyone entered the classroom with big smiles on their faces and in far-too good a mood for a sixth-period class. Ms. Givens was early to class – unlike Mrs. MacMillon, who was always late, and only came when the students started to get restless and subsequently blamed all their behaviour on Stiles, because let's face it, she hated him – and everyone immediately took out their books and began paying attention. Stiles had never known his class cared about biology so much.

The class passed by with no incidents. Ms. Givens was still rather quiet as she taught, but that didn't stop her at the end of class from telling them there would be a test at the end of the week. Some students groaned, but most didn't even seem fazed – they would gladly take a million tests if someone other than Mrs. MacMillon was giving it.

Seriously – she was the worst teacher ever.

The end of the day flew by after that class, and Stiles soon found himself shoving his books in his bag and running to his jeep. Fifteen minutes later he was home and quickly setting up his PS3, excited to finally be doing something after school that wasn't related to homework or the supernatural. Not that he'd really been doing much with the supernatural lately, but he was determined to not open that can of beans tonight. Stiles grabbed his phone and called the local pizza place, placing an order for a five-thirty delivery. As soon as he was finished he jumped on the couch, and promptly waited for Scott to arrive.

Twenty minutes passed and Stiles began tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. He reminded himself that Scott had probably stopped at home or had ended up talking to the others before coming over, so he simply had to be patient.

Forty minutes passed, and there was still no sight of Scott. Ten minutes later Stiles finally sent him a text, just asking him what his ETA was. For fifteen minutes there was no reply, until finally Stile's phone buzzed with a text.

Sorry man – got held up with Liam and Lydia. Be there in a half hour, tops.

Stiles sighed in frustration and tossed his phone to the side, glancing at the clock. The pizza would be there in under an hour, so Scott would have enough time to make it before it came. He'd definitely have enough time.

A half-hour came and went, and Stiles was no longer able to stave off the annoyance that he was feeling at Scott's lateness. Scott had been late to their game nights before, his lack of punctuality was really no surprise; but for some reason his absence was unusually hard to swallow, and Stiles tried to keep himself as calm as he could as he waited. The last thing he wanted was to be pissed at Scott the one night they were able to hang out together.

Fifteen minutes later Stiles texted Scott again; ten minutes after Scott finally replied, his text quick and short:

Sorry, can't make it tonight. Something came up.

Stiles frowned, and quickly tapped back a reply.

Is it serious? Do you need help?

A moment, then, No, everything's fine. Can't text – talk to you tomorrow.

Stiles' frown deepened and his fingers clenched his phone tightly. Scott said there was nothing wrong, but clearly something was going on if he was willing to bail on their game night. He wouldn't cancel and not tell him if it wasn't serious, right?

At that moment the doorbell rang, and Stiles opened it to see the pizza-man with a big smile on his face as he held out two medium-pizza's towards Stiles. Stiles clenched his teeth and dug out his money, handing it over in exchange for the two pizza boxes. A moment later the man was gone, and Stiles was once again left alone.

"Well," Stiles said to himself. "At least I'll have food for the next four days." It was little comfort in light of everything that was going on. Especially since he didn't have a clue what any of that was.

Stiles grabbed a few pieces of pizza and popped in an old movie, sitting quietly down on the couch. His eyes watched the people absently on screen as he waited for the day to end.

He didn't want to feel angry at Scott for bailing on him, but anger pulsed through his veins nonetheless. He knew it was petulant, that it was juvenile to feel as though Scott somehow owed him time together, that he owed him for having pushed him away and bailed on him so many times before now, but he couldn't stop the feeling of resentment that stirred deep within his chest. The group's laughter echoed through his mind from earlier that day and he was reminded once again just how separated he had become from them in the past couple months. He used to always be with them, laughing with them, balking at all the close-calls they'd faced when fighting all the different supernatural creatures that they had come across in the past three years; but for the past month and a half he'd started being pushed and sent away in the name of safety and practicality.

Stiles knew that they didn't want him to be hurt, that their intentions were well-meant. He knew he was the only human in a group of supernatural teenagers, many of whom wouldn't be teenagers for long, and that no matter how much he didn't like it, no matter how much he hated it, the reality was that he was defenceless. He had nothing to give to the group to make it stronger; the only thing he could do was be an unnecessary distraction and potential hazard, a person who would never save, but always need saving. There were more than enough times when he had put Scott or one of the others in danger. Stiles hated those moments, and knew that Scott and the others hated those moments too. Derek had seen it, before he'd left. He'd seen the liability that Stiles was to everyone, the liability he was to the pack. Stiles had always wondered if the day would come when the pack would kick him out, when the situation became too dangerous to have a human around and he'd be forced to leave the group. He'd always wondered if and when it would come, how long this honeymoon phase of Scott's induction into the life of the werewolf would last. He'd always wondered.

And now he knew.

Stiles dropped his biology textbook on his desk with a thud, sitting down with a sigh. He'd spent the past couple days throwing himself into study for this exam, choosing to put his anger and annoyance at life into school, doing anything he could to avoid thinking of everything that was going on in his life right now. No matter how much he had studied, however, Stiles still felt incredibly unprepared for this exam. He had no clue what Ms. Givens' tests were like, or if he'd studied for the right things or not, and to be quite frank, he was still incredibly pissed at Scott for everything he had and hadn't done. He'd tried to ask him the day after he'd bailed what had happened, but he'd been incredibly tight-lipped about it, probably because he didn't want Stiles to know what had happened or to try and involve himself in anything that was still going on. After complaining about it the first few times Scott finally told him to drop it, because the incident was over and was, in the end, none of his business.

That remark was probably what had stung the most out of everything Scott had done and said in the past few months – that it was "none of his business". Stiles had had an internal fight at that point, arguing with an invisible Scott and telling him exactly what he thought about the pack and the supernatural being "none of his business". He'd been with Scott when this all began, heck, he was the one who got him into those woods that night, he was ultimately the one responsible for his being turned into a werewolf in the first place. They'd spent over how many years together as best friends – as brothers – fighting the unseen evil forces of the world and saving damsels in distress, and then fighting actual evil forces of the supernatural world, only for Scott to now kick him out because he'd deemed it too dangerous for a human; and besides, he had so many other friends now, friends who he could actually rely on in a fight and not have to worry about, so why would he want to keep Stiles around?

He heard someone slide into their desk beside him and Stiles looked up to see, speak of the devil – Scott. Scott was turned away from him at the moment though, talking to Michael Chevers on the other side of the room. Stiles watched him for a moment, biting the tip of his pencil as he appraised him, before turning back to his books and pretending to study.

"Hey Stiles," came Scott's voice a few minutes later. Stiles hummed in response, giving a small wave with his hand, never looking away from his book. "What's up?"

"Sorry Scott; didn't have much time to study last night so I gotta cram now." He heard a sharp intake of breath followed by a loud moan.

"Oh no, that's right – that test was today! Shoot, I didn't study at all!"

Stiles shook his head, trying not to smile at such a typical Scott McCall response. If Stiles hadn't forced Scott to study and reminded him of tests growing up, he'd probably still be in the first grade.

"Hey, what should I kno –."

At that moment the bell rang and everyone quickly took their seats as Ms. Givens began handing out the stack of papers in her arms. She gave Stiles a brief smile as she handed him his test and he gave a quick smile in return as she continued down the aisle. The room went quiet and soon all that could be heard was the scratching of pencils against paper and Stiles settled in for forty minutes of mind-numbing torture.

Stiles finished his exam half-way through the class, feeling vaguely confident that he'd done a good job; he turned his paper over and settled back in his chair and waited for the final twenty-minutes to pass. He glanced to his left and saw that Scott was still writing furiously, and was annoyed when he felt a stab of pity at the worry he saw on his friend's face. Eventually the bell rang and Ms. Givens began gathering up the test papers as everyone got to their feet and began exiting the room. Stiles shoved his books in his bag and made for the door, but was stopped by a tug on his sleeve.

"Hey man, look," Scott said, coming up beside him, his trademarked Puppy McCall look set on his face, "I know you're still pissed about the other day – again, I'm totally sorry that I had to bail. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Oh yeah? And how will you do that?" Stiles asked lightly, making his way to his locker door.

"Well… I haven't thought of anything specific at the moment, but I thought maybe you knew the best way for me to make it up? You're always the one that comes up with the plans." It was blatant buttery-upness and Scott and Stiles both knew it. Stiles thumbed his combination lock back and forth a few times before snapping it open and shoving his books inside.

"Well, I suppose there are a few things you could –."

"Hey Scott!"

Both boys turned to see Liam running up to them, a look of panic stricken across his face.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked, his light tone from before replaced with the authoritative tone of an alpha. "What happened?"

"The – the creature from before, the one that attacked the elementary-school principle – we didn't kill it."

"What? How is that possible?"

Liam glanced at Stiles nervously, then quickly looked back to Scott. "I don't know, but it's somewhere in the woods. One of the kids in my class saw it, and –."

"Call Malia and let her know where we are; I'll call Kira. We'll meet at the south trail in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay." Liam took off back down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. Scott immediately dug out his phone and began punching in numbers. Stiles shut his locker and watched Scott with wide eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked quickly. "What creature was he talking about? Is it one of the ones from –."
"No Stiles, you don't know what it is." Scott brought his phone to his ear, then glanced one last time at Stiles. "Don't worry about it, okay? It has nothing to do with you. Just go to class or – or whatever it is you do now."

"But Scott –."

"No, Stiles!" Scott's voice was deep and sharp, allowing no room for dispute. "I can't keep having you try and join us whenever something supernatural comes our way." Scott began moving towards the entrance doors and Stiles followed him, right on his heels.

"But Scott, I can help!" Scott ignored him, and Stiles felt something within him snap. "Why are you kicking me out? What did I do to deserve being kicked out of the pack, huh? I know I'm not a werewolf or a kitsune or a banshee like everyone else, but I can –." They had just walked out of the doors and onto the front steps, where a grey, overcast sky covered the town in an atmosphere of gloom. At Stiles response Scott immediately stopped and turned around, shoving a finger in Stiles' chest, phone forgotten at his side.

"No! That's just it, Stiles – you aren't! You're a human – you don't have any defence against these things that come at us, and yet you still insist on fighting them!"

"Because I can do something –."

"No you can't! You can't do anything! But you think you can, and that's the problem!"

Stiles tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that told him to stop as he followed after Scott down the steps and into the parking lot, to not push the issue because he wouldn't like where it would go, but he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth as he said, "How is it a problem? How am I a problem? All I ever try to do is help, that's all I ever do – ."

Scott came to a halt and spun on his heel, a look on his face that Stiles had only ever seen directed at those he was genuinely angry with. "You don't see it, do you?" he asked. Stiles swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but Scott cut him off. "You don't realise how many times your being with the pack has put them in danger. You don't see how when we're fighting a creature of the supernatural, that half our time – half of my packs' time – is spent trying to keep you safe, when they are barely able to keep themselves safe. And they always keep you safe because they know what it would do to me if you were hurt or killed; and so they put their own lives at risk to save yours. And I can't keep risking their lives like that. I can't keep risking my life like that."

There was a long silence after that, neither boy saying a word as they stared at each other on the empty cement steps of the school. Stiles glared at Scott, doing everything he could to force back the heat and sting that were burning his eyes. It was one thing to think that you were an imposition to someone; it was another thing entirely to have that person to tell it straight to your face. "What are you saying?" Stiles finally asked. Scott looked back at him, a hint of guilt on his face, though Stiles knew it was a guilt born only out of pity.

"I'm saying that I can't keep wasting my time looking after you when I'm supposed to be leading a pack and protecting them. A pack – a pack is like a family, Stiles. It is a family. And it's my family, and I can't keep putting them in danger. Not anymore. So please. Just stay… stay here. Okay?"

Stiles said nothing.

Scott watched him for a moment, guilt further edging his features, but he remained where he was. His expression finally crumbled slightly and he looked at Stiles pleadingly. "Stiles – I'm sorry. Really, I am. But I just – I can't…." Scott took a breath. "I don't want to see you hurt. And if… if that means keeping you away, if it means kicking you out of the pack – then that's what I'll do." There was another long silence and Scott began backing away. "Look, I have to – I have to go. I'll call you later, okay? We'll do something this weekend, go to a movie or play video games. Okay? I – I'll see you later." With that, Scott turned around, his face still twisted in guilt as he ran over to his bike and kicked it into gear. He put on his helmet and revved the engine, before disappearing onto the road.