The Stilinski Pack
Author's Note: Sequel to Pack Wars. If you haven't read that one you'll probably want to.
Right, so I know I said it'd be a few days, but I already have so many ideas I just have to write.
I'm trying my hand at an original character in this fic. The story begins with Stefan, Stiles' twin, who lives across the country in New York.
Stiles doesn't know he even exists, but Stefan knows about him, sort of.
Pairings: Established Sterek, Scottson, Isaaca, maybe Lydia x OC
ooOoo
Chapter One
Across the United States, far away from Beacon Hills there is a village in New York, a remote hamlet called Crester.
Stiles Stilinski has never been there. He doesn't know about his other family. It had been his mother's doing from the day they were born. 'They' being twins- Stiles and Stefan.
Stefan had lived in the small cottage off the dirt road with his Uncle Kevin almost since his birth. He had been brought there by his mother Felicia Durant. He knew her name had later changed to Stilinski when she'd married his father.
His father... who he'd never known. His brother, a boy named Stiles. Why had his mother brought him here to live with his crazy uncle? Why had she gone to have a life with his father and brother? A life without him...
He wondered sometimes if she'd ever cared about him at all. She'd visited him only once when he was a small boy, but he held it always in his heart, letting his memory return to that day.
"Mommy needs you to be strong," she'd whispered, smiling sadly and placing a hand on his little shoulder. "Can you do that Stefan?"
"Why can't I go back with you where you live?" he'd asked.
Her eyes had become distant and conflicted he remembered.
"Because," she'd whispered. "That isn't your life. You were first. You're the stronger one."
That had confused him. He was the first what? His mother passed away a few months later. His uncle told him cancer had gotten her. It had broken his heart.
The question never went away. He asked his uncle about it one day not long after.
"What did mommy mean Uncle Kevin?"
"What's that my boy?" he asked, not sure what he was talking about.
"She said I was first," he repeated. "The strong one."
His uncle had gotten an uneasy look in his eye. There had been something considering about it.
"Stefan," he spoke heavily. "When your mother gave birth to you... there was another. You have a twin Stefan... his name is Stiles."
The boy had been both shocked and fascinated. It fascinated him even now that he was older that he'd still never met his twin.
Stefan walked over to his little bedside table, picking up the picture on it. Within the frame was his living copy, a teenager with close cropped hair and brown eyes, grinning like an idiot.
"Stiles," he muttered. "You look so carefree. Not like me... serious."
Stefan thought his twin looked something like a comical nut. He wasn't like that at all. He was reserved and thoughtful.
The hair was a difference too. Stiles seemed to wear his hair cut short, or so the picture would suggest. Stefan's was longer and a little messy, but he had almost exactly the same brown eyes.
He put the picture down, recalling how he had come to be here. Uncle Kevin had told him that when he was a little older, when he'd started teaching him the craft.
"Your mother wanted one of you to learn the craft," he'd explained. "To carry on your family's legacy. You must sense that we're not like most people Stefan."
"Do you think Stiles could do the craft too Uncle Kev?"
His uncle had eyed him seriously for a few moments.
"Yes I imagine he probably could. It runs in the Durant blood, so they say. That's why your mother sent you here to me Stefan. Someone must carry on the family legacy as the mage."
The mage was like the head of the coven. That's what the Durants were- a coven, a family of natural born witches.
Stefan's dad hadn't wanted them to learn the craft, or so his uncle said. His dad was a sheriff, and they were terribly practical. Witches weren't practical or predictable.
It was because of this that his mother had struck a comprimise. One of the twins must be sent to her brother to learn the craft. The family legacy must be safeguarded.
"That's what she meant by you're the strong one," his uncle had said. "Stiles seemed so weak and fragile as a baby Stefan. You seemed like you were the healthier twin. She figured you could handle it."
How did that make him feel now? Honestly it made him feel a little bitter and resentful. Handle what- growing up away from his parents and his twin brother?
He envied Stiles in a way, wondering if his twin knew just how lucky he was... wherever he was. Stefan didn't know and Uncle Kevin wouldn't say.
Uncle Kevin had gotten the picture for him about two years ago. Apparently he'd gotten in touch with his dad and asked for it. Surprisingly, the sheriff had sent it, but of course Uncle Kevin wouldn't say where from.
"This is your twin brother," Uncle Kevin had told him, holding out the picture, smiling.
Stefan had held it close to his heart ever since. He felt such love for this brother he'd never met. He hoped they would meet one day.
"Stefan!" his uncle's voice shouted, tearing into his train of thought. "Lessons."
Stefan sighed and looked sidelong at his twin's picture.
"Well Stiles, magic lessons again. If only you could know what its like to be me. No scratch that. I'm sure you're happy wherever you are."
He often talked to his twin's picture like that. His twin Stiles... where was he? What was he doing now?
ooOoo
Next chapter: Beacon Hills and the gang.