Forgotten Memory

It was a scrimmage, the upperclassmen versus the lowerclassmen, a lacrosse tradition and the only time Stiles had a chance at playing on the field. He was excited, even if he had put down the sport over and over. He wanted to play, even if it was only against his own team. It didn't hurt that he got out of half his classes for it too. The game took place after lunch and the whole school watched, almost like a school spirit pep-rally before the start of the season.

Stiles, just like off the field, was snarky and mouthy, the adrenaline just made it worse. "Oh come on Tyler, are you going to just let Jackson score on you like that? The kid is a freshman!" Stiles laughed, the only time he'd cheer Jackson on.

"Stiles, maybe you should tone it down." Scott whispered as they made their way back to starting position after Jackson's goal. "I think they're starting to plan something against you." He looked at the group of seniors huddling together and looking at Stiles over their shoulders.

The comment only made Stiles chuckle more. "I don't have to worry about anything! Those guys can't even tackle Greenburg!" Stiles yelled over to the seniors then turned to Scott. "Come on buddy, it's just a game. I don't get to play that often, let me have my fun." Stiles started jumping back and forth on his feet. "Hey Tyler, I'll see you on the bench next week!" He giggled. "This is fun."

"You know, you say those things on the bench and no one cares but saying them on the field…Stiles you're going to get hurt." Scott shook his head. "It wouldn't surprise me if one day a group of kids beat you up after a game because of your big mouth."

Again Stiles just shrugged. "It's just a scrimmage, they'll get over it." The whistle blew and the play started. "Hey…" Before Stiles could even start his latest comment three seniors and a junior rush at him, taking turns knocking him with their sticks before he took a violent thumb to the ground, smacking his head against one of the seniors on his way down. "Wha…"

Seeing his concerns become true Scott rushed to his best friend, sliding to the ground. "Stiles!" His voice was the last thing Stiles heard before blacking out.

The sheriff got the call that his son was taken to the hospital and his heart dropped. It felt like he couldn't breathe again until he saw Melissa and she told him it was a concussion and he was fine, nothing life-threatening. But as he sat in the hospital room, waiting for Stiles to come back from his CAT scan his mind wandered to the last time Stiles got a concussion…

His head was hung low between his knees, buried in his hands. Stilinski couldn't believe what had just happened. He knew what his wife's disease could do. He had read all the books and articles. He talked to all the doctors. He was prepared. He thought he was prepared. He had seen her go through fugue states before. But nothing could have prepared him for this. Nothing could make this better. His wife attacked Stiles, she attacked their boy.

Even with all the confusion, on her good days she always made sure to go pick him up from school. Even with the night terrors, speech difficulties, and other countless awful symptoms she was always a mom, Stiles' mom. But this last fugue state had been different. She wasn't a mom. She was insane. It was the first time Stilinski had even thought his wife was insane, when she accused their son of being out to get her and then attacking him. What was worse, Stiles was going to have to live with that.

Once he managed to pull his frantic wife off the boy, he noticed Stiles wasn't moving. For a moment he feared she might have killed him, but the nurses assured him he'd only hit his head when he fell. He might have a concussion but he'd be fine. He'd be fine. How could a kid be fine after something like that?

Stilinski looked up as the nurses wheeled a slightly disoriented Stiles back into the room. "Dad? What happened? No one will tell me what happened. They say they've already told me but…" Stiles stopped, seeing how upset his dad was. "Dad, what happened? Is mom okay?" He face was full of worry. That's when the sheriff realized he didn't remember. His mom attacked him and he was asking if she was okay. This horrible, traumatic event…he didn't remember.

"Stiles, what's the last thing you remember?" The sheriff sat down on the chair next to the hospital bed as the nurses left once settling Stiles down.

Stiles shrugged, seeming even younger than he was. "I don't know, maybe walking down the hall? I think I was following mom…no, that doesn't make sense; I must have been going to see her. She's okay, isn't she?"

Sheriff Stilinski smiled, trying not to seem sad. "She's fine. I think she's finally come out of her fugue state. We'll get to take her home before we take you home. They want you to stay overnight because of the concussion. But you're both fine." He ran a hand through Stiles' hair. "I think Scott is even on his way to come see you."

"Dad…how did I get a concussion from walking down the hallway?"

How could Stilinski tell his son the truth? Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe lying was okay as long as it kept his family safe. He never told his wife how bad she got during her fugue states. He never let her see the bills. Sometimes lying was protecting. "I don't know Stiles, how exactly does one manage to get a concussion just from walking down the hallway? Something about flailing around to miss a crash cart and then something with a vending machine? Really a vending machine Stiles? Who has an incident with a vending machine?" He shook his head, proud of his little fib. It sounded just like Stiles.

The boy ran a hand over his buzz cut sheepishly. "Sorry, but I mean those things aren't very secure. It's really a problem the hospital should look into." He smiled, he believed it. But who wouldn't believe their dad who was the sheriff?

Before the sheriff could feel anymore guilt the door flew open and Scott came running in. "Stiles! Hey my mom told me…"

"Yeah, I know, what idiot has a fight with a vending machine and loses. No need to make fun of me Scott." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"What?" Scott looked utterly confused. The sheriff just had to look at the small boy with a crooked jaw, a silent plea, and he knew. "Geez, Stiles, really?" And the secret was safe.

John looked up as an out-of-it Stiles was pushed into the room with his dirty jersey on. "How is he?" He asked Melissa who was helping the lanky teen into the bed.

"He's fine. Give it a few more hours and I'm sure he'll come around again. For now he's just asking question after question. And Scott is in the waiting room freaking out by the way. I guess Stiles had the air knocked out of him and Scott thought they killed him." Melissa laughed.

Stilinski just smiled. "You can tell him he can come back here. I'm sure Stiles will be glad to see him when he comes to."

The next few hours consisted of Scott fussing over his friend, Stiles asking the same four questions over and over, and the sheriff remaining mostly quiet in the corner. But then Stiles seemed to get ahold of the answers. He was keeping them. He was understanding. And then he groaned, "God I'm an idiot. This is why benchwarmers never play. Talking the talk is much easier from the bench." He laughed. "But hey, at least I was tackled by people this time and not a vending machine." Him and Scott laughed but the sheriff stiffened.

"Yeah man, but hey, maybe Lydia saw it and felt bad for you." Scott laughed.

"If only…" The boys continued their high school talk completely unaware of the tear the sheriff shed.

/Wow I'm really proud of myself for getting this update done. So I know this chapter was a bit different, more through the sheriff's eyes and less about the friendship but it's my little explanation for Stiles' lost memory in season 5. I've got the next chapter started already and know what the chapter after that will be so hopefully I can update this more often. But yeah thanks for read, pretty please review, and have a great day!