Stiles immediately wished he had thought twice before throwing the first punch.

The moment Theo's muscles went for him, it didn't matter if Stiles wanted a fight or not; the option of not resort to violence got thrown off the window, and now it was all about defending himself. Theo's fist hit Stiles' face, and for a few seconds, he thought his head would crack into a million pieces. Stiles stumbled backwards, but then he regained balance and didn't wait until his blurry vision went back to normal before grabbing Theo by the shirt and giving him a much weaker version of the punch he had just received.

Stiles didn't notice the circle of people forming around them, nor the screams. He didn't care that that was the first real fight he had ever gotten into, nor did he feel the pain from the punches. Adrenaline rushed in his veins and he was guided by his anger.

Theo lunged for him, tackling Stiles to the ground. The air escaped from his lungs as his back hit the hard surface, but Stiles didn't stop moving. He hit his elbow as hard as he could against Theo's ribs. The guy groaned in pain and revoked with another punch, then another. Using what was left of his strength, Stiles managed to shift places, hovering over Theo and releasing all of his rage against the guy's face.

Suddenly, something forced him to get back on his feet. Somebody put their arm around Stiles' neck to hold him still as he fought to free himself. Some other guys pulled Theo off the floor, and he also struggled against them to get back to the fight.

"Hey, break it off! What the fuck is this?" Yelled Brett, a senior year student and also the party hostess. "You two, get the fuck out before I call the police!"

"But he just attacked me!" Theo yelled back in his defense, wiping a bloody cut on his lip with the back of his hand and wincing. "I barely know this asshole!"

"I don't care who started it, I want you both out of here, now!"

Stiles pulled down the arm around his neck and the stranger, noticing that he wasn't going to attack again, let him go. He looked at Theo's bloody face one more time before leaving without saying a word, pushing people out of his way until he could finally leave the house. Stiles choose not to stop and look for his friends; they would end up knowing everything in no time, everybody would. And now that the adrenaline started to wear out, he began to feel the effects of the fight. The pain and the tiredness hit him like an extra punch, and then all he wanted was to go home.

Stiles got into a taxi, told his address to the driver and sunk on the back seat, pressing his shirt against his bleeding nose and closing his eyes. When the car stopped in front of his house, he paid for the ride then dragged himself out. Some light were on inside, which meant that his dad was home. Stiles let out a long sigh and unlocked the front door.

"Stiles?" The Sheriff called from the kitchen. "I thought you wouldn't be home 'till later."

"Yeah, me too," he said, sighing again as he went to the where his dad was. The Sheriff's speech would happen sooner or later, so Stiles chose to face it already and call it a night. The boy collapsed on one of the chairs, exhausted, while the man hummed casually, preparing a sandwich.

"Are you hungry? I can make you a..." Noah stopped talking the moment he turned around and looked at his son's face. "Jesus, what the hell happened to you?"

"I'm pretty sure he died on the cross," Stiles murmured, unable to hold back the comment. His dad didn't laugh.

"Stiles," he admonished. Noah stepped closer to his son and placed his plate on the table. He grabbed Stiles' chin and lifted the boy's head so he could have a better look of his son's bruised face. Noah shook his head. "What happened?"

"I got into a fight," Stiles answered.

"A fight?!" Sheriff asked, grabbing a few ice cubes from the freezer and wrapping them with a towel. "Since when do you go around getting into fights?"

"Well, it was kind of hard not to get involved after I started it," he said, wincing when his dad pressed the ice against his face.

"What's gotten into you?" Noah sat across the table from his son and studied his face. "I thought you were smarter than to go around looking for trouble."

Stiles frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I'm the sheriff and I raised you, boy, I thought you had no option but to stay away from trouble. Apparently I was wrong."

"Your expectations are way too high, but I promise you I was not looking for trouble."

"So it just found you, then."

"That's not what I... ugh," he moaned, too tired to finish the sentence. "Believe me, I know I acted like an idiot, I feel like a giant idiot right now. I just, I wasn't... thinking straight."

"I'm glad you know that. Now tell me why you did it."

Stiles wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes. Now he regretted his decision to face his dad that night, which seemed to be made entirely out of bad decisions. He was tired, in pain and pissed at himself. He wanted to take a shower, go to sleep and only face his bruises and the consequences of his acts the next morning.

"Dad, can we talk about this tomorrow? I really..."

"No, we can't," Noah interrupted him, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms on his chest. "Go ahead, I'm listening."

Stiles sighed. He knew that there was nothing he could do to make his dad give up on having that conversation, so he told the sheriff everything, since the thing between Malia and Theo until his involvement with Lydia, then the cheating at the party. For Stiles, it wasn't weird, nor awkward, to talk to his dad about his life like that. His mom died when he was too young, so the two had a lot of time to get used to have each other not only as father and son, but also as friends.

"So you attacked this Theo because of jealousy," Noah said. "I did not see that one coming."

"No, I attacked Theo because he was cheating on Lydia," Stiles clarified. "I would appreciate it if people stopped thinking I'm jealous."

The Sheriff shrugged. "For me, it sounded like you started this fight because, beside not wanting Lydia to be with another guy, you got mad 'cause he decided to kiss someone else when he has Lydia. Am I wrong?"

Stiles stared at his father, a blank expression on his face. The boy had to admit that the sheriff had a point, and it scared him that his dad could be right. Stiles definitely didn't want to be jealous of Lydia, that's what had been keeping him from seeing the truth. He could not be jealous of Lydia.

"I am not jealous," he stated, looking at his bruised knuckles. "I was defending my friend, that's not jealousy."

"You know, when you were kids, you used to defend Lydia from everything," Noah said. "Every time she did something wrong, you came up with an excuse before she could get in trouble. You worked harder to make her happy than to do your homework."

"A true gentleman, you should be proud."

"We both know it wasn't about chivalry." Stiles lifted his head quickly as he listened to his father's words. Noah looked at his son like he knew all of the boy's secrets, and raised an eyebrow. "You followed her around like a shadow, and you were completely crushed when she left. I didn't have to be a genius to notice that you didn't like her just as a friend."

"That was a long time ago," Stiles said. He realized that he was not surprised at all to know that his dad knew the whole time about the way he felt for Lydia. Stiles never did a good job hiding it. But he wished everyone would forget about that, just like he did. "It doesn't mean anything anymore."

Noah narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, totally. It took me a long time to get over Lydia but it had to happen some day. It did happen, and now I don't feel anything for her that I wouldn't feel for any of my friends." Stiles got up before his dad insisted to continue that conversation, which was even more tiring. "With that said, I'm going to bed. Good night."

Stiles dragged his feet upstairs, to his room. He grabbed clean and comfortable clothes from his drawer and went to the bathroom, where he took a warm shower that helped to ease the pain. He got dressed and brushed his teeth avoiding his reflection on the mirror, because he didn't want to deal with that so soon. He went back to his room and collapsed on his bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

In the next morning, Stiles almost couldn't get up. The pain burned on his arms, ribs, and especially on his face. He sat up, moaning, and took a deep and slow breath. There were the consequences, showing up to say good morning.

"Oh, you're so fucking stupid," he murmured to himself, wincing as he threw his legs off the bed and got up. Stiles walked slowly to his bathroom, stood in front of the sink and finally looked at the mirror. "Aw, goddammit, man."

His bottom lip was split open and swollen, and a dark red bruise colored his cheek bone. His right eye was purple-ish and his left eye didn't open entirely. Stiles' face was a total mess and it would take weeks to go back to normal.

"At least you didn't lose a tooth you stupid moron," he grunted and he bent over the sink and carefully washed his face, drying it with a towel afterwards.

Stiles would love to go back to bed and sleep for a few more hours - or until he didn't look like a loser - but his stomach was growling and he smelled bacon. He went to the kitchen and found his dad making coffee, already dressed up as the sheriff.

"Hey, son. You look awful," Noah greeted the boy as walked in.

"Thanks, dad," Stiles deadpaned, serving himself some eggs and bacon. Noah laughed and joined him for breakfast. They ate in a comfortable silence - the father reading the paper and the son feeling miserable.

"Oh, by the way, Malia called," Noah said as he put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. "You should check your phone."

Stiles frowned. "My phone?" He hadn't stopped to actually think about the fact that he had disappeared from his friend's sight during the party after getting into a fight and hadn't said a thing about it. "Shit."

"Yeah, shit. See what happens when you decide to not think before you act? Shit happens."

"Very inspirational, sheriff."

"Boy, if I was talking to you as the sheriff you would never hear the end of it. I have some pretty good it's-time-to-grow-up speeches saved for situations like this. But, speaking as your father, I'll just say that walking around with the pretty face you have now is a good enough lesson." Stiles narrowed his good eye at his father, who just patted the boy in the head. "Good luck with your girlfriend. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you later," Stiles said in a low voice. He winced as he left the table, and went to his room. He picked up the pants he had used the night before, which he had thrown on the floor, and fished his phone from his pocket. Stiles sighed when he clicked the button and saw at least ten missed calls and texts from his friends. Most of them came from Malia, and he decided to get to her first. His frown deepened as he read her last messages.

Yesterday:

"STILES WHAT THE FUCK"

"ARE U DEAD?"

"BITCH U BETTER NOT BE DEAD"

"CAUSE ILL KILL U WHEN I FIND U"

Today:

"Stiles im coming over"

"U better be alive"

Stiles barely had time to process how screwed he was when he hear someone coming through the front door, closing it and climbing the stairs. Malia knew where the spare key was hidden, of course. And she almost knocked down the door as she burst into his room. Stiles turned around to face her, preparing himself for what was coming.

"Stiles, oh my god," Malia gasped, walking up to him and hugging him. Stiles recovered from the surprise and held her, burying his face in her hair. Suddenly she pushed him back and punched him in the arm.

"Ouch!" He complained, wincing massaging the spot.

"What the fuck happened last night?" She nearly yelled, her brown eyes bright with anger. "In one minute everything is fine and in the next one you decide to go for the MMA's belt, and then you go disappear from the earth! What is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Yes, I..."

"When I heard people talking about the fight I thought I was gonna find you bleeding on the floor. Then I heard that you simply left without saying a word and I began thinking I was gonna find your body in a ditch somewhere. You couldn't bother to send a fucking message? How hard is it to grab the goddamn cellphone and send something, anything, so your girlfriend won't think you're dead? "

"Malia..."

"And what were you thinking? We weren't even that drunk, and you tackle Theo as if you had just eaten a can of spinach? Fuck, Stiles, what is wrong with you? I mean, how can you be so stupid..."

"Malia!" He called louder so she would hear him. Malia stopped talking, slightly out of breath. "I'll explain what happened, just let me talk, okay?"

"Fine, I'm listening," she said, crossing her arms just like the Sheriff had done.

"Okay. Alright. So..." Stiles wet his lips, then pressed them together, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. "I saw Theo kissing another girl. I mean, he was cheating on Lydia in front of everyone. He was basically asking for a punch in the face."

Malia stared at him, her face void of expression. Stiles waited anxiously for her to say or do something, which didn't happen for a few agonizing seconds.

"This is unbelievable," she finally said. Her eyes were not that angry anymore; now they disappointed, sad even. "Unbelievable."

"Malia, I..." he whispered, trying to find a way to make the situation better. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking..."

"Stop trying to find excuses, Stiles. There are no excuses for this. You promised me... You told me you weren't... and now..." Malia shook her head, laughing humorlessly. "What is it with guys lying to my face and making me feel so damn stupid? It's getting really old and I'm tired of this!"

Stiles opened his mouth to defend himself, because she had just compared him to Theo, but then he closed it. Malia was right and he knew that, he knew he had screwed up and that the biggest consequences could be putting his relationship at risk.

"I know," he said, lowering his head. "I know, I'm sorry."

"I've never seen you act this way. So jealous, impulsive and aggressive. This isn't... you," she said, furrowing her brow. "I didn't say anything about your change of behavior because I had no idea what could be causing it... or maybe I did know, and choose to ignore it. It's Lydia, isn't it? She's what made you change so much."

Stiles lifted his head and widened his eyes, taken back by her words. Malia had a hard expression on her face, but her eyes were watery. It was clear that situation hurt her.

"What happened between you two, Stiles?" She asked. "You were kids when she left, so you couldn't be really dating. But there was*something, and it didn't go away with time."

"Malia, please..." he pleased, but the look on her face didn't give him the option of not responding her question. "Okay, fine. I liked her."

Malia arched an eyebrow. "You liked her? It's obvious it wasn't just it."

"Come on..."

"Stiles!"

"Alright, alright, ugh." Stiles closed his eyes for a second, wishing he could disappear, rather than standing there and telling his girlfriend that. "I was kind of... in love with her."

The blonde bit her lower lip, nodding slowly as she looked away.

"But," he quickly added, "that was a long time ago, and like you said, I was a kid so it wasn't that serious. It didn't really mean anything, I barely remember...

"Ah, shut the fuck up, Stiles. I'm not a complete idiot, it's obvious it was serious for you. And it doesn't matter if it happened a long time ago, you don't just forget when you fall for someone."

Stiles was about to apologize one more time when they heard someone calling his name downstairs. It was a feminine voice, which they both recognized as being Lydia's.

"Seriously?" He muttered under his breath.

"We're upstairs!" Malia yelled so the other girl could hear her, never taking his eyes off Stiles. They heard Lydia's steps as she climbed the stairs, and the blonde stepped closer to her boyfriend and said in a lower tone: "If you're still in love with her, let me know, okay?"

Stiles frowned at her.

"The door was unlocked, I figured you would be at home," Lydia said as she entered his room. Then she notice the tension between the two of them and blushed. "Sorry, I can come back another time..."

"No, it's fine. I was just leaving," Malia said, stepping back. Stiles didn't take his eyes off her, silently asking for her to stay so they could finish the conversation. The blonde ignored him, going to the door. "He's all yours," she told Lydia, and left without looking back.