Stiles read over the notes he had copied from Lydia's school work, relieved to know that there wasn't any difference between what was taught at Beacon Hills High School between the two realities. Really he'd only missed a few weeks of school, and with the help of the rest of the pack he'd quickly caught back up, ready for him to start back at school.

It had been easy for the Sherriff to enroll him in Beacon Hills high school; thanks to the paperwork that Danny had organized. He was back in the same classes that he had been in before the Nogitsune, and he knew that he had at least one member of the pack with him in every class. Scott had even suggested that Stiles join up with the Lacrosse team again, but Stiles wasn't so sure. He knew that he hadn't physically recovered from the way his weight had plummeted following the Nogitsune, and then the drama with the Necromancer, so he wasn't sure if taking up contact sport once again was a good idea.

Time had trickled by quickly, and today was the day before Stiles was supposed to go back to school, or rather, have his first day of school, granted that he was supposed to be a brand new student. It was going to be interesting having to pretend to not know where anything was, and to not know any of the teachers, or anything about the school.

Scott was working at Deaton's clinic, and Isaac was on a date with Kira, leaving Stiles alone to go over his notes and fight the anxiety about going back to school that was beginning to churn in his stomach.

Stiles hadn't ever really been apprehensive about going to school. Sure, there had been periods over the years when staying at home had sounded much more enjoyable, but Stiles had never really felt this anxious about going to school. He knew some of it stemmed from the last time he'd been to school, when the school had literally blown up around them, killing almost all of his classmates and teachers, including Lydia, Isaac, Liam, Danny, Ethan, Coach, and Lydia's mother.

Sometimes, in Stiles' nightmares, he still remembered feeling the heat of the explosions against his skin as Lydia's last scream echoed in his ears, louder than all of the other screams of terror and horror that had been heard that day. He remembered how Scott and Kira had both been in the same class as him, and how Kira and Scott had both protectively dived over him, with Scott shielding Kira as well as Stiles with his body as the building had been destroyed. He barely remembered scrambling to his feet afterwards, helping Kira find Scott, who had gotten up immediately after the initial explosion to go and find Liam or Lydia or Isaac, only to be knocked unconscious mere feet from Liam's body. Stiles and Kira had carried Scott to freedom in between them, hauling the unconscious Alpha through the rubble, past the dead bodies of their classmates, people that Stiles had known and grown up alongside.

Derek had arrived only minutes later, scooping Scott up in a bridal hold and carrying him to his car, while Stiles and Kira got the Jeep, and they all sped back to the Hale house, hiding in the tunnels beneath the remains of the house while they patched Scott up from his injuries and anxiously waited for him to heal.

No matter how many times Stiles tried to tell himself…convince himself that the school wouldn't be destroyed again…that he would be safe there, that there was no sign of the necromancer that had staked her claim on Beacon Hills, and had killed the surviving members of the pack until it was only Stiles left.

Stiles knew that the werewolves of the pack had noticed the amount of anxiety in Stiles' scent was increasing. Scott, Isaac, Erica and Liam had all asked him how he felt about going back to school and if they could do anything to help, and even Jackson had told him that he had nothing to worry about, and that if anyone gave him a hard time Jackson would deal with it personally, a gesture that Stiles hadn't expected from Jackson.

Still, despite the gentle support from the rest of the pack, Stiles hadn't been able to help but feel more and more anxious about going back to school with each day that passed until the day when he would walk into Beacon Hills High School once again.

"You ok, buddy?" Stiles turned his head, looking up at the Sherriff who was leaning against the archway that separated the dining room from the kitchen.

Stiles shrugged, "I think I'm as caught up as I'm going to get," he admitted, closing his folder up, as well as Lydia's school work, so he could return it to her the next day.

"I wasn't actually referring to the school work," the Sherriff pointed out, "Not that I don't think it's important."

"The last time I went to school it blew up," Stiles admitted, "Lydia, Isaac, Liam, Danny and Ethan all died, and Scott was really badly hurt. He, Kira and I were the only members of the pack that were there that walked away from it."

"If you're not ready yet I can call the school, make some excuse."

"No," Stiles shook his head, "It's been long enough. I can't keep letting what happened to my pack in the other reality rule me. It's like, I'm trying to move on, but there's parts of me that won't let go of what happened, that every time I try to adapt and adjust to this reality I remember something from my old pack ,and it hurts so much.

"Come here, kid," The Sherriff offered, and Stiles got up and went willingly to the Sherrif, letting the older man put his arms around him in a tight, reassuring hug.

"You're going to be ok. It might not be tomorrow, or next week, or even six months from now, but one day you're going to be ok, and it'll all hurt less, and the memories won't be as painful. Until then, you've got me, and Melissa, and Scott and the pack, and we're all here for you, we've got your back."

"Thanks dad," Stiles replied, deliberately using the word dad. He felt the Sherriff's stance stiffen slightly, before he simply hugged Stiles even tighter.

"Come on, there is something I want to show you. I was going to hold it off for a little longer, give you a little more time to adjust, but I think you need the cheering up today."

The Sherriff pulled back and led Stiles away from the kitchen, to the front of the house, where he grabbed something that Stiles didn't see from the drawer of the hallway stand. Stiles frowned curiously as he followed the Sherriff out the front door and down off the front porch. The Sherriff moved his hand and Stiles realized that the object the Sherriff had retrieved from the hallway stand was the remote control for a roller door.

Stiles hadn't gone anywhere near the garage since he'd arrived at the Stilinski-McCall residence. He'd assumed that the garage would be just like the one of his old home in his original reality, used only for storing junk that didn't get regularly used, and therefore wasn't very interesting. It was probably the only area of his new home (except for his dad and Melissa's bedroom) that Stiles hadn't visited at some point. He, Isaac and Scott had even spent one afternoon recently up in the attic looking for something for Melissa. In the process they'd found quite a bit of Stiles' childhood stuff, including his baby albums, and some of his childhood artwork that is mother had decided to keep.

The Sherriff pressed the button on the remote and the door began to rise, and it didn't take long for Stiles to realize that he'd been wrong about the things stored in this garage, compared with the garage back home.

As the roller door lifted Stiles first caught sight of the rear wheels of a car, the body of which was carefully covered, but the shape was unmistakable.

"Roscoe?" he choked out, taking a few tentative steps forward. The Sherriff had laughed, clapping his hand on Stiles' shoulder.

"She's all good, buddy, I took good care of her for you and your mom."

Stiles, knew that his mouth was hanging open as he shot a grateful look over his shoulder at the Sherriff as he walked into the garage, reaching out with a shaking hand to pull the cover off the car. It slid off easily, revealing Roscoe it all her glory, her paintwork clean, free of the dints that she'd gained due to Stiles' putting her though all sorts of werewolf shenanigans.

Tentatively, almost reverently, Stiles ran his hand along the Jeep's bodywork, his eyes misting over as he remembered the last time he'd seen the car, out the front of the Hale house as he walked away from it.

"Hey, girl…I missed you," he whispered, tears leaking his eyes as he pressed his forehead against the driver's side window.

"Derek, Erica and Isaac looked her over last week when Scott took you over to the Hales to Talia, and Derek took her to get new tires when we were sorting thing out with the school. She's probably running even better now than she was back when your mother was alive. She had a full service a few months ago, but I don't get much time to drive her. I know that when your mom stopped driving she told you that one day Roscoe would be yours, once you were old enough to drive her, and, well, as an added benefit, it means that you won't have to car pool with Scott and Allison. Trust me; I've been in the car with those two before…I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Stiles let out a wet sounding snort, "I know what you mean," he agreed with a wry smile, "it used to be so sickening to watch…almost painful. Nobody deserves witnessing that.

"Good thing you're all legal again then," The Sherriff offered, jangling the keys for the Jeep in his hand as he pulled them from his pocket, before he tossed them towards Stiles. Stiles caught them, fingering the familiar metal, just the same shape as he remembered.

"Thanks dad," he smiled, his eyes shining with unshed tears and his voice catching with emotion. It didn't take long for the Sherriff to cover the distance between them, pulling Stiles into a gentle embrace, cupping his hand protectively over the back of Stiles' head.

"It's ok," He told Stiles, "I've got you, it's ok."

The words enough to send Stiles' mental barriers crashing down, and he broke into sobs, clinging to the front of the jacket the Sherriff was wearing burying his face into the older man's shoulder. The material beneath Stiles' face quickly became moist with Stiles' tears, but Stiles barely noticed, lost in his own emotions and thoughts, memories dancing through his mind, although for the first time in awhile, they weren't about the pack…about everyone he'd lost since he'd been thrown into the supernatural world, but instead about his mother, and memories of her slow, drawn out illness and eventual death.

Stiles didn't know how long he and the Sherriff stood in the garage, fully visible from the street, clinging to one another as Stiles sobbed, but eventually his tears stopped and he pulled away, wiping his face with the back of his hand and opening his mouth to speak, but the Sherriff spoke before Stiles even had a chance.

"Don't even think about apologizing for crying like that, Stiles."

Snapping his jaw shut, Stiles simply looked up at the Sherriff. The Sherriff slung one of his arms over Stiles' shoulder.

"Come on," he offered gently, let's take the ol' girl for a spin and see how she goes, yeah?"

Stiles couldn't fight the smile the crossed his face at the very prospect of driving his beloved Jeep once again.

TEEN WOLF

Although Stiles wouldn't ever admit it to the rest of his pack or the Sherriff, going back to school was perhaps the easiest part about jumping from his original reality. Everything was so…familiar, from Finstock's lectures to Mrs. Martin's smiling face, to the familiar layout of the building.

Thanks to Lydia, Stiles was already ahead in his classes, so it wasn't too difficult to get back into the familiar routine of go to school, go home, do homework, work on any assignments, repeat.

The strangest part about it all was the strange looks Stiles would get when one of the Pack called him Stiles. Most of his classmates remembered the version of him that originally lived, and died, in this timeline, but Stiles, the pack, and the Sherriff had been able to avoid any issues by simply saying that it was a popular name among young male members of the family. Enough years had passed that, luckily, the rest of his classmates shrugged it off, although Stiles wasn't sure how much of that was due to Deaton's spell that made people ignore any discrepancies in his paperwork.

Despite being the new kid, Stiles didn't have to worry about getting new friends, thanks to the pack already taking him in, although Stiles had almost cried on his first day when Heather had walked into his English classroom, memories of the day when he'd seen her body laid out in the morgue still fresh in his mind.

Despite the fact that it technically was a completely different building, Stiles couldn't help but relive his memories of things that had happened in the halls of the school, not just the explosion that killed Lydia, Isaac and Liam, among many others. He knew the classroom where Ms Blake had stabbed his father, the corridors that Peter had chased he and Scott through, the spot where Stiles had collapsed after the Nogitsune had finally been defeated, the spot in the bleachers where his dad had sat the night of the Lacrosse final, the patch of the lacrosse field where Peter had attacked Lydia.

In this timeline, however, none of those things had ever happened, and it didn't take all that long for Stiles get into the habit of remembering the good things that happened at his old school, as well as beginning to gather new memories of this realities version of the School.

One such occasion took place during Stiles' second week at the school. Scott, Isaac, Jackson, Danny, Kira and Liam all had lacrosse training, and Stiles hadn't felt like heading back home, knowing that both the Sherriff and Melissa would be at work until late that night, so he had stayed behind, sitting in the bleachers and working on his homework, half watching what was going on in front of him on the field. It was entertaining to watch Coach put the team through their paces, with Greenberg's lack of skill made all the more obvious with four werewolves and a kitsune on the team.

Eventually the training had ended, and all of the non supernatural members of the team staggered towards the locker room to shower, get changed, and then go home, but Scott, Kira, Isaac, Liam and Jackson stayed out on the field, practicing passes and playfully tacking one another. Stiles waited until Coach had left before he came down off the bleachers, stepping foot on the Lacrosse field and approaching the other teenagers.

"Still got energy to burn, huh?" Stiles asked casually. Jackson beamed.

"Stiles, good, you know how to play?"

"Yeah, I was on the team back…back at home, why?"

"We need another play for three a side. Danny had to go and do something with his dad," Jackson told him, "You can borrow his Crosse."

"Er, have you guys forgotten that I'm human?' Stiles asked, more than a little nervously. He knew, painfully well, how into Lacrosse his pack mates could get, even during training.

"You can borrow my padding, if you want," Liam offered helpfully, his eyes echoing the sad puppy face that Scott had perfected as a child, and obviously taught to his youngest beta. Stiles knew he didn't really have a chance, especially when he looked over at Scott and saw that his best friend was giving him the sad eyes too.

"Ok, fine, just don't knock how shit I am at this, it's been a while."

It didn't take long for Stiles to get Liam's protective gear on, and for Jackson to retrieve Danny's Crosse, which made Stiles suspect that this had been the pack's plan all along. Stiles was placed on Scott and Liam's team, with the reasoning that Scott was physically the strongest out of all of them, and would help counter out Stiles' humanity, while Liam, with less control than any of the others, would be less likely to lose control and attack a team mate. It also meant that Isaac and Kira were on the same team, which was a disadvantage in itself as Isaac had a habit of getting distracted by Kira's presence…something which reminded Stiles vividly and painfully of Scott and Allison in the early days of their relationship.

Despite the fact that his pack had never done anything like this…not with Jackson and Liam anyway…it had felt almost normal for Stiles to stand with Scott and Liam at the start of their mini game.

It seemed like it had been eons since he'd last done something fun like this. He'd spent time with the pack since his introduction to them in this reality, but playing a few rounds of Mario Kart was one thing. This…this was something else entirely. Stiles couldn't help the smile that broke across his face as the game began.

Sure, it was a disadvantage for him being the only human in the game, but the way the others played, it wasn't too bad. Stiles still got the ball just as much as the others did, and he even managed to score a few goals, his muscle memory taking over as, even after such a long time without playing Lacrosse, it all came back to him.

The game continued on until an angry shout echoed across the field.

"McCall…Whittemore…I told you guys to go home already."

Stiles took advantage of Jackson being distracted by Coach's return to the Lacrosse field and scored another goal, before he turned and faced Coach Finstock.

"Sorry Coach," Scott apologized sheepishly, "we were just messing around."

"Don't you all have homework to do?" Coach sighed, rubbing a weary hand over his face. Stiles was up to date, thanks to his study session during actual lacrosse practice, but Isaac visibly winced at the reminder of the homework he had waiting for him.

"We'll just go now," Scott reassured Coach, beginning to walk towards the bleachers, where Stiles had left his belonging. Finstock nodded, casting his eyes over the group, before his gaze fell on Stiles.

"Stilinski, is it? The new kid?"

"Yes Sir," Stiles nodded, more than a little surprised that Coach knew his name, even though Stiles had him as a teacher.

"Nice work on those passes and shots at goal, you've got some decent skills…better than Greenberg anyway. Ever think about joining the team?"

"Er…" Stiles flustered, having not expected the question, "yeah, I mean, I was on the Lacrosse team back…back at my old school, and I enjoyed it, so, yeah, I guess that would be ok."

"The next training session is on Thursday, you can try out then. I'm sure these nut jobs," Coach gestured at the others, "will tell you that I work my players hard, and that I expect them to take the game seriously, understand?"

"Yes Coach."

"Good. See you on Thursday, and for god's sake all of you have a shower, you all stink."

"Yes Coach," Liam smiled as Coach turned and walked back the way he had come, back towards the teacher's car park.

"So…wanna show us that video of you playing in your Lacrosse final now?" Kira asked lightly once Coach was out of earshot.