Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian, Jasmine (Jaz), Miguel, Sasha, Janice (J), Jessie, Luna and Grace (Gracie).

JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD

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P.S. I've been really busy with college, so I won't update as regularly as I used to. It's going to be work-work-work, so bear with me, please :)

Chapter 10

Stiles

When I was back in 'my room', after putting Luna back in her room, I went over to the desk and grabbed my backpack. I chucked it onto the – immaculately – made bed before, carefully, packing up the comics and moving the box onto the floor.

Only once the box was out of the way did I climb onto the bed, sitting cross legged in the middle and facing the headboard.

Everything, from the moment Derek got me out of That Place had just been...strange. Well, to me they had been strange.

I was used to people hitting me whenever I took a breath... But that hadn't happened until Derek took me away.

Sighing slightly, I unzipped my backpack, carefully unloading it onto the space in front of me. It was large enough that I could keep all my school stuff in it, as well as a few...personal things. Things that I had managed to hide from Ms Johnson.

I took out the red hoodie that used to belong to my dad.

I took out the Alice Blue teardrop pendant that used to belong to my mom.

I took out the only picture I had of my dad, my mom and me.

Lastly, I took out a black, toy wolf cub with red, glass eyes...the one my mom and dad picked out for me when I was born – I named it Wolfy...original, right?

Off of the table beside the bed, I grabbed a box that Derek had bought me earlier that day. It looked a bit different to how it looked earlier, but he said it would... He said he would make it so no one in the house – no supernatural creature – could open it. It was a simple wooden box. Well...it had been, but now there was a mark carved into it – the triskele. I knew all the meanings of it, there were loads...and it was obvious it had been made with a wolf's claws.

I liked it...

Sighing, I carefully placed the pendant and the picture inside the box, closing and padlocking – it was a combination lock – it. The hoodie and Wolfy, however, were placed under the pillows, making sure it wasn't obvious there was nothing under there.

Of course, I would have to find a more permanent place for those two to go... Anything could happen if someone came into the room.

And I couldn't lose them. Not any of them.

Derek

"Oh, that poor boy." Grace whispered, her voice cracking.

"He seemed...used to it?" dad spat.

"And you saw a kid trying to do what?" Laura mumbled, looking sick.

"I suppose that place really isn't as good as I thought." Peter gulped, shell-shocked.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Cora breathed, scrunching her eyes closed.

Mom said nothing. But her scent said more than enough...

She was pissed.

More that pissed.

She was angrier than she had ever been, but she contained it.

"I couldn't let him stay there." I told them, quietly. "He told me that, if he left, they would have thought he was with Scott McCall and couldn't risk them hurting Scott and his mother. They know where Stiles and Scott go; they can get to him at the school... He said that they would, probably, try to kill him; he thought he could deal with it; that he didn't want anyone else getting hurt because of him."

"No wonder he was so frightened." Janice murmured to herself. "Poor Stiles."

"Why would his parents just leave him there?" Cora mused, bitterly.

A low, quiet growl came from my mother then.

She turned slowly towards us, her eyes flashing red every so often.

I had never seen her like this before... Well, not that I could remember anyway.

"Because neither of them knows. That's all I will tell you, it's up to Stiles to explain when and if he wants to." mom said, evenly. "Right now, we have to find a way to shut them down."

"We can't do that already?" Grace asked, bemused.

"We need evidence. And I doubt Stiles will willingly give up anything he knows at this moment in time."

Clenching my jaw and curling my hands into fists, I jumped up and stalked out of the house.

I never liked my family seeing me angry.

I never liked my family seeing me as an Alpha.

I never liked getting like this.

It wasn't that I was ashamed of who I was. I'm proud to be a werewolf! I just didn't like hurting my family.

Stiles

"Come on, keep running! That's a good boy, keep running!" dad yelled, keeping a tight hold of my hand. "Come on son, keep running for me! Please!"

Tears were running down my face.

My eyes were red and puffy.

My throat was sore, but I couldn't feel it.

My hair was greasy.

I was a little muddy and a lot scrapped.

I didn't see the uneven pavement. I tripped, letting go of my dad's hand, my backpack hitting the back of my head. I couldn't get up, but I heard the man behind me. I heard the bad man behind me.

"Daddy!" I cried, struggling to get up, struggling to breathe.

"Genim!" dad screamed, skidding and running back for me. "Come on, buddy! We have to keep going!"

Dad picked me up this time, holding me close to him and tucking my head under his chin. I buried my face into my dad's Sheriff shirt.

I thought he was going to keep going. Keep going until we got to Melissa's or to the others.

But there was a loud bang.

Dad couldn't run. He was hobbling.

"Daddy!" I chocked, gripping onto his shirt tighter, crying more.

"It's alright, Genim. Everything's going to be alright." he whispered.

I thought he was going to keep going. But he turned right instead.

I heard a door open before dad was begging someone to look after me.

Begging them to take me before it was too late.

Begging them to keep me safe.

"I love you, Genim." dad whispered, hugging me tightly, kissing my forehead. "I love you. Mommy loves you. We both love you so much, baby boy. We love you."

"Love you, daddy." I whimpered, clutching him tighter.

Then I was pushed away from him.

I tried to get to him, but someone was holding me back.

Then I saw the bad man.

"DADDY!" I screamed.

The bad man lifted his gun, pointing it right at my dad...

BANG!

I woke up screaming, thrashing around.

Someone was holding onto me, stopping my arms from moving... I didn't know who it was. Panicked, I just tried to lash out, did whatever I could do.

"...iles! Stiles, calm down! You need to calm down!" someone was saying. "You're alright, it was only a nightmare."

"Dad! Dad! No! Dad! NO!" I screamed. "DAD!"

I wasn't sure how long it took, but soon I had fully come out of the nightmare, realising it was Derek who had been stopping me from hurting myself and helping me.

He sat there, the whole time, holding my arms down with one of his, while the hand of his other arms ran through my hair. That was something my mom used to do...whenever I was agitated or scared.

It always helped.

I sat there, shaking, a few tears still rolling down my face... I didn't bother to hide them or wipe them away.

"It's ok. It was just a nightmare." Derek whispered, pulling me in closer and still running a hand through my hair.

I would have panicked if I didn't feel so numb.

"It was a memory." I muttered. "Of the night my mom and dad died."

"They... What?" Derek replied, frown evident in his voice.

Sighing, I screwed my eyes shut as more tears came to the surface.

"August twenty-fifth two-thousand and three." I whispered, hoarsely. "My mom died of Frontotemporal dementia in the hospital. It had been building up for years and there was nothing we could do to stop it. She was in so much pain... I was in her room when she died; my dad – the Sheriff – was forced out to a crime scene. My dad came to the hospital, crying, but he came over to me and said we had to run. That a bad man was after him."

I breathed deeply, shakily, memories and flashes and screams of That Night coming back to me.

"The guy blamed my dad for not locking up his wife's killer. Thing was, there was no killer...she had killed herself. But the guy blamed my dad." I continued, chocking on my words. "We ran. He could only get me as far as That Place. He had been shot in the leg while we had been running and couldn't keep going. He begged for her to look after me. I watched from the side, being held back, as some asshole shot my dad right in front of me."

I tried to muffle a sob as it broke out of my throat. The next words were the hardest to get out.

"I was covered in my dad's blood and I saw it pool out of him as he lay there, on the ground, facing me. That psycho took off and I was forced to clean the blood off of the fucking window of that fucking Agency!" I cried. "That all happened the day before I turned eight! I was seven years old turning eight the next day and that happened! And I've had to relive it every fucking night!"

Derek said nothing. It was the best response I had gotten out of anyone.

Other people would say they felt sorry for me or some shit... I didn't need people to tell me that. I just wanted someone to listen. Someone that wasn't close to the subject like Scott. Just someone!

Who knew Derek was the perfect person for that?

I woke up the next day – Tuesday, June 12th – alone, wearing my dad's old, red hoodie and clinging on to Wolfy.

I never remembered taking them out from under the pillows...

Derek...

Even though I was awake, I didn't open my eyes. I just buried my head further into the fur on the back of Wolfy, pushing the hood on my head further down my face.

I hadn't worn the hoodie in years... It always hurt too much to put it on. But, after last night...it felt strangely comforting. It still hurt, yes, just not as much as before.

Not many people knew what it was like to lose both parents.

Everyone always thought it hurt more losing them before you got to know them... But, in reality, it hurt more when you lost them after you got to know them. A part of you was missing then, a part of you that you would never get back. You lost that bond. You lose a part or yourself and it eats away at you from the inside.

It was one of, if not the, worst feeling, ever.

I missed them every day.

And it was all my fault they were gone.

Wiping away the water that started to gather in my eyes, I squeezed Wolfy tightly before placing him back under the pillows. I kept my dad's hoodie on over the pyjamas though – black plaid pyjama bottoms and a long sleeved red t-shirt.

It was warm.

It was cosy.

It still smelled like my dad's cologne.

All I did next was open the box, pulling out my mom's pendant, fastening it around my neck before closing said box again and heading to the en suite bathroom.

I didn't get dressed, hoping to God that Derek really did mean that I could wear whatever I wanted. All I did was pull on a pair of socks and slip my glasses on before leaving the room and heading downstairs.

When Derek had checked on my last night – before the nightmare, before I fell asleep – he had let me know that his family were going out and would all be coming home at different times, a little later in the day. So, for now, it was just the two of us and the 'staff'.

However, as I walked down the last few stairs, I heard voices.

"Why are we here?" a bored, male voice asked.

"You know why." I heard Derek growl.

The next thing I heard was footsteps.

Footsteps that were coming closer. I backed up a little, until my heels hit the last step, stumbling slightly. I would have fallen, if I wasn't caught.

Of course Derek would have caught me.

"Come on." he said, quietly, with a small warm smile.

Derek kept a hand on my shoulder as he guided me round the corner and into the living room.

It was obvious to know that his Pack was there – well, obvious after I heard that first voice, anyway.

I didn't look at any of them as we walked in, opting to keep my head down and ball the end of the left sleeve of my dad's hoodie in my left hand, squeezing the material tightly.

"STILES!" a familiar voice yelled.

I jumped back towards the door, my head snapping up.

I couldn't believe what I saw.

"SCOTT?!" I yelled back. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were in his Pack?!"

"Why the hell did you let someone you barely know help you but not me?!" Scott fumed.

"YOU KNOW WHY!"

"Wait! You knew?" Derek said, lowly, turning to Scott.

Everything was silent for a while.

Nobody said anything.

Nobody moved.

Nothing happened.

It was only as I shifted slightly that it all blew up.

"Of course I knew!" Scott screamed.

"Why didn't you do anything?!" Derek shouted.

"He wouldn't let me!"

"You should have tried harder! What kind of friend are you?!"

"One that tried to get him to leave. One that got him out of that place for six out of seven nights. One that tried to help!"

"Well, obviously you didn't do a good job!"

"I didn't know what to do!"

"You could have said something!"

"ENOUGH!" I yelled. "JUST STOP IT! STOP IT!"

Neither of them had realised that their eyes were glowing and claws were out...

Neither of them noticed how close they had gotten to each other...

Neither of them noticed that they were about to fight it out...

Neither of them noticed that was not a good idea.

Of course, as soon as I opened my mouth, they both snapped out of it.

"Wait. Stilinski was the abused kid you rescued from that adoption agency?" Boyd asked, a little doubtful.

Everything, for the second time, grinded to a halt.

My blood ran cold.

I felt myself tense up.

To be honest, I don't think I was breathing.

I felt light headed.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

But, most of all, I felt betrayed.

"You...toldthem?" I whispered, staring blankly at an empty spot on the wall.

"Stiles, calm down." Scott tried.

Slowly, I started to turn to face Derek.

"You told them." I said, slightly stronger now.

"Stiles..." Scott muttered.

Before I knew it, something in my head just...snapped.

"YOU TOLD THEM?!" I shrieked. "I TRUSTED YOU, DEREK, AND YOU WENT AND BLOODY TOLD THEM! WHAT THE HELL, YOU ASSHOLE!"

I didn't know what I picked up. All I knew was, when I threw it, it broke.

I didn't even care anymore.

I knew this would probably be the tipping point, making Derek act like they did...

But I didn't care.

I wanted it to be over already.

"You. Lied!" I hissed, before storming out of the living room.

Thankfully, I still had shoes by the front door, so I shoved them roughly onto my feet before walking out of the house and walking slightly into the woods. I kept by the edge, making sure I could still see the house as I sat down on the ground and leant against the trunk of a tree.

I didn't want people to know about the Agency. That's why I kept quiet.

Scott knew that! Surely it was obvious.

It was personal.

Something I didn't want to share!

But Derek just went and blurted it out to people that don't even like me! Well, apart from Allison. Allison liked me and she was awesome.

But Derek shouldn't have told them! There are certain things you don't go telling people and Derek just went and did one of those things!

It hurt to think I trusted him a little...

I heard someone making their way towards me after a few minutes of being alone. I could already tell it was Scott – obvious by his footfalls. And, yeah, it was really weird how I could tell the difference between Scott's and someone else's.

"You had every right to be angry, dude." Scott said. "And you can still stay at mine if things get too overwhelming here. You always have a place there, remember?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." I nodded, quietly. "I just...why?"

"I don't know. All he said to us was Peter had an idea, that he rescued one of the kids from an agency – didn't specify one... Then, this morning before you came down, he said how the one he got out of that place wasn't fairing well... Of course, we all knew what that meant. He said we should know, since you're Pack now."

"Still doesn't excuse the fact that..."

"I know. And I don't care if he's my Alpha, I'm behind you every step of the way, bro."

Scott, even though he kept the little factoid about being in Derek's Pack a secret, was someone I knew I could trust.

Scott dropped an arm – carefully – around my shoulders, shuffling a little closer. He was the only one that could get physically close to me like this without me flinching back or panicking. I had known Scott my entire life; I knew he wasn't going to hurt me. He was my best friend. He was my brother. But...

"I'm still mad at you." I muttered.

"I thought you knew!" Scott whined.

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