Stiles waits for her reaction, braces his body for impact, but it doesn't come. She gets off the bed calmly.
"You need to leave in the morning." She says.
"That's it?" He says. "That's all you're going to say to me?"
She sighs. "What do you want, Stiles?"
"To acknowledge that, that maybe you still feel something for me." He doesn't even know if that's the truth, but he wants to edge her on, get her angry. Stiles is ashamed for acting irrationally, for making it so clear he's not over it. He's not over her. And he didn't even know about it before he made that fateful move. The fateful blunder.
"I don't need to acknowledge anything," Her voice is tight. "You need to realize that you can't come back here when things get tough and expect me to pick up the slack."
"That's not-"
"Then where were you when I needed you?" She's volatile now, barely controlling the shift. "Where were you when I was using? Where were you when my dad got murdered? Where were you all the other times I had to deal with the fact that you ran away? From the pack. From me."
Her breathing is rugged, elongated teeth glowing in the darkness. She's clutching the wall, her claws digging into the plaster, emitting a shrill noise.
"I didn't know." Is all he can say, and she laughs. It's a desperate laugh.
"Yeah well, it doesn't matter anymore."
"It matters."
"Don't be stupid." She pulls her claws out of the wall, takes a deep breath and leaves the room, shutting the door without a grand slam. The silence that follows is enough to drive him over the edge of sanity. Stiles feels foolish, stupid. He had convinced himself into thinking that Malia was stronger than him, that she was fine. There was the pack, and Scott. She'd move on without him, be much happier really. He was nothing but a dark cloud of despair, sucking the happiness out of her back then. Even after they caught the Alpha who did it. But he was wrong. The thought made his body shake with self-hatred. He had left her to fend for herself, and perhaps she'd never forgive him now. He didn't deserve forgiveness anyways.

His sleep is disturbed by memories, this time tinged with a healthy dose of guilt.

He gets out of bed in the morning, feeling better but not exactly well. Shuffles out of the bedroom though, glancing quickly at the claw marks that Malia had left last night. He finds her in the kitchen, leaning over the counter, her body supported by strong forearms. She sighs, feeling his presence.
"Your flight is in three hours," she says after he'd been staring at her for well over a minute. "I made some eggs. Eat quickly and we'll go."
He frowns, but says nothing. She's set on sending him away, and he can't really argue with that logic. He's been nothing but an inconvenience since he's appeared in Beacon Hills. The least he can do is get out of her life as abruptly as he entered it.

The eggs are cold, and they land painfully in the pit of his stomach. Stiles watches Malia in his peripheral vision. She's on her laptop, brows furrowed in concentration. Eyes bloodshot and surrounded by sallow skin. He's ashamed to think that she'd probably been crying all night. A phone on the dining room table vibrates suddenly, and Malia scowls before getting up to reach it. She gives him a reproachful look as his gaze falls on the caller ID. Robert. She leaves the kitchen before answering. Perhaps he had misjudged how much she hadn't moved on. What's another wrong assumption to add to the list? Just because Stiles had never, truly…well at least he'll feel less guilty.

He doesn't bother trying to listen in the conversation, not that he could if he tried. It's obvious Malia had gone to the furthest room in the house to talk. When she comes back, she swings the door so forcefully that it bounces against the wall. She mutters a curse under her breath, sighs.

"I've got to go," she says. "Can you find your way to the airport?"
Stiles nods. "The rental car is still in the driveway."
"Way to be inconspicuous."
"I didn't know anything when I came here." Stiles reminds her and she acts as though it's not a good enough reason.
"Where are you going?" He tries, keeping the question casual.
Tying her hair in a ponytail, she smacks her lips. "Don't worry about it."
Almost as an afterthought, she says, "The ticket is on the nightstand. In the bedroom."
Stiles nods, "How should I transfer the money-"
She huffs. "Save yourself the trouble."

Stiles leaves the house barely fifteen minutes after Malia, climbing into the driver's seat of the car with more difficulty than he'd like to admit. But he's doing what he's told, trying not to focus on the fact that Malia is with someone. Or on the fact that he's bothered by it. Or the fact that he's got no right to be. He distracts himself with the music on the radio as he drives back to the hotel to pick up his things. It's Saturday, and the roads are refreshingly free of traffic.

But a sudden impulse clouds his mind, and he swerves off the main road. There are so many questions unanswered and it's clear that Malia is in no state to answer them herself. So who else could do it for him? Scott.

He drives to his childhood home, fully aware that the chances he lives there are slim. Stiles has decided that he needs to know everything, even if he's to leave Beacon Hills and never return again. But he needs to know.

His rapping on the door is answered not by Scott however, but by a very pregnant Kira.

"Stiles?" she says, her expression questionably not surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk," he says calmly.
Kira isn't too ecstatic to let him into the house, but she does anyways.
"Scott isn't here," she says. "I'm staying with Melissa until well," she points to her belly.
"I didn't know." Stiles says. "Congratulations. On the marriage and on the baby."
"Thanks," Kira says. There's a strange tightness in her voice. She leads him into the living room, looking so much different than he remembers, but somehow still the same.
"Water, tea, coffee?" Kira offers.
"No," Stiles says. "Just some information."
Kira sits down with difficulty. "Scott warned me that you might make an appearance."
"He told you I'm back in Beacon Hills?"
"Last night," she says. "Didn't want to of course, because I'm in no shape to be involved with the investigation. At the moment, anyways." She looks out the window in thought.
"Scott has been planning on getting the pack back together then?"
Kira nods. "For nearly a year now."
"So why hasn't he contacted me?"
She sighs. "It's been difficult enough trying not to raise suspicions."
"But Lydia and Parrish know, and Malia and you-"
"Yes," she says.
"What about Liam?"
"Liam moved away when he went to college and he's been gone since. We didn't want to tear him away from his new life-"
"Why didn't Scott contact me then?" He asks again.
"Because Malia didn't want him to."
Stiles grimaces. "Oh so because Malia didn't want me, Scott just decided to leave me completely out of it."
Kira nods. "Yeah."
Stiles takes a deep breath. "Don't you see how unfair that is?"
She frowns. "I agreed with Malia. I didn't think it was necessary to bring you back. But Scott has always had a soft spot for you, even-"
"So if I hadn't barged in here myself, I would have died from the shit Mensutti was spiking me with and none of you would have given a single crap."
Kira is angry now, though not surprised at his outburst. He feels guilty for provoking her. It's not fair to blame her, but he can't help himself.
"We didn't know they planted him in your business." Kira says. "We didn't think you'd want to join, and we thought you'd be safer away from this one."
"Oh safer-"
"Don't forget," Kira says, interrupting his outburst. "You're the one who left Beacon Hills and the pack all those years ago. You're the one who didn't want to be a part of the constant danger, and we wanted to respect that decision."
Stiles is silent.
"It wasn't easy for anyone." She continues. "Especially Scott. He's always wanted you to come back."
There's a long pause.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I've just had a hard time wrapping my head around everything that has happened the past month."
Kira sighs. "We all care, Stiles. And the choices we made and make are a reflection of that."
He looks away, tries not to show his ashamed expression. "I just wish things were different. I wish Malia didn't hate me. Though I'm the one at fault for that."
"Malia doesn't hate you, Stiles." Kira says simply. "I don't think she could ever hate you."
"She can barely look me in the eye." He says.
Kira groans. "How would you prefer she look at you after everything that she's gone though?"
Stiles gulps, looks blankly at the floor.
"When you left, she spent months on end in the woods, refusing to shift to human no matter how much we tried. We thought she had gone mad. We lost contact with her for nearly two years then."
"Two years?"
"I thought she'd gone after you, but turns out she was living on the edge. Right on the edge. Eventually she came to herself enough to stay human. Returned to Beacon Hills even."
His throat has gone dry, his heart beating hopelessly against his chest.
"Everything calmed down for a little, as much as they could have back then."
"She said," Stiles tries. "She said her father was murdered."
"That was the final blow, we think." Kira says gravely. "We had some dealings with a rogue Alpha and Malia took the crux of it. He killed her father in return."
"Who's the Alpha?"
Kira rubs her eyes. "It doesn't matter because he was hired by Peter. Got him back into Eichen House, but it wasn't long before he was on the run again."
Stiles feels rage filling his body, inch by inch. Hatred for Peter, for the pack for not protecting her. For himself, most of all.
"She couldn't really handle it," Kira says. "And she left for another long while. When we found her, she was barely holding on."
"Why didn't you help her?" He says, angry tears clinging onto his tear ducts, threatening to spill out at any moment.
"We tried, Stiles." She says, rubbing her eyes. "But she didn't want to be found, and she didn't want to be helped. She was,"
Kira looks doubtful on whether she should continue. "I'm not sure Malia would appreciate me telling you this."
"Please," Stiles mutters.
"I hope you don't do anything stupid or rash with the information."
"No, I just I- I need to know."
"She was going through an addiction." Kira says finally. "We had heard some rumours about a party drug that was effective on werewolves, and now we saw the extent of its effectiveness." She pauses. "It took her over six months to feel better. She'd been on it for nearly that entire year."
The silence that follows is enough to drive Stiles' mad.
"It's all my fault." He manages to whisper, voice hoarse.
Kira sighs, ignores him. "Malia brought our attention to the drug, and we've been trying to investigate its origins. Many other supernaturals have died, but our progress has been too insignificant to account for anything."
"I should have been here," he says. "This wouldn't have happened."
Kira tries hard not to roll her eyes. "I highly doubt an entire drug ring operation would disband if you never left."
"No," Stiles says. "No, but Malia wouldn't have-"
"Stop." She warns. "There's no point in putting all the blame on yourself."
He finds that hard to believe.
"Malia is finding it hard to forgive you for leaving the pack, but she doesn't hate you."
"She should." Stiles whispers.
Kira shrugs. "That's up to you two to decide. But I believe that Malia hurts so much because of other feelings." She looks out the window, where the red and yellow leaves dance in the autumn wind, swirling with colour and producing a strange feeling of sadness over the house.
When Stiles speaks again, it's with hard confidence. "Kira, I want to help with the investigation." Kira's eyes travel back to his face, and she signs.
"You don't understand," he says again. "I need to help."
"Stiles-"
"I can't abandon the pack again."
"I don't think you have much choice in the matter this time around," Kira says simply.


Stiles drives back to his hotel, thoughts spiralling in his head so quickly he's disoriented. It stings to know that nobody but Scott even wants him back, but then, he can't really blame them. Especially Malia. His body shivers convulsively every time he thinks about her, and he wonders how he ever survived nearly a decade without her. Survived better than she did, an angry voice inside his head sneers. He gulps, pulling up into the hotel parking lot.

Perhaps he wouldn't try convincing the pack to return. They'd only seen him as a victim of circumstances up until this point, and they're unlikely to accept him as anything else. But he has something to bring to the table. He'll fly back to NYC like Malia wants him to. He'll spy on Joe Mensutti, figure out whom he's reporting to. After all, Joe hadn't been careful. He'd underestimated him, and Stiles is tired of being underestimated.

Stiles unlocks the room, eyes finding the claw marks still clear against the dark wood of the door. His stomach lurches. He wants to climb under the hot, steaming water of the hotel shower, order some room service and then be off to the airport and onto Phase 2. As he removes his clothes, he tries not to dwell on the variety of scrapes and bruises that have bloomed on his torso. Yellow, red and purple. Like the leaves slowly drifting in the wind outside. Stiles leaves the shower feeling more confident in his decision than ever. The fog in his mind has lifted, and as he pulls on a fresh pair of jeans, white t-shirt and plaid shirt, he feels almost invincible.

"Phone, wallet, carry-on." Stiles says, listing off his possessions. He had just booked a return flight and he's not planning to waste any time now. He'd eat later.
"Tools!" He exclaims, bending under the sink to retrieve his investigative gear. Thousands of dollars worth of technology, and he would have forgotten all about it in his state of brain overdrive.

There's a strange sense of foreboding as he boards the plane, a singular thought running through his mind. I might never be back here again.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I know it seems like everyone is ganging up on Stiles, but I promise that's not for much longer. It's December, which means lots of travelling for me. But I promise I will try to squeeze in as much writing as I can during that time. Let me know how you like the chapter, and the last season of Teen Wolf! Can't believe it's been this long! :D