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: Zane, Chase.
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
Please, please review XD
Chapter 11
Stiles
After school on Monday – 7th October – back at the house – I couldn't call it home – I was upstairs in the room I had been using, not realising that the door was wide open as I changed my shirt
I did that sometimes. If I wanted to just chill, I would always get my pyjamas on. But I usually remembered to close the door. Apparently not this time.
I was standing at the end of the bed, when I had just placed the t-shirt I had been wearing that day and picked up the one I usually wore to bed. It was the Batman one that Derek had sneakily bought for me... When Lydia had first seen them all, she had gone into a huff, demanding how I managed to do it.
It was rather funny...
So, because I thought I had closed the door, once I had the t-shit on, I hadn't expected to turn around and find Erica leaning against the doorframe.
I sighed, slumping my shoulders, before moving past her and walking down the stairs, into the living room. I sat down in my usual spot on the floor, leaning back against the couch. But Erica, instead of sitting next to Boyd on the couch they usually occupied.
No. Instead she stood over me, hands on hips, eyebrow raised.
"What?" I ended up saying...eventually.
"Your tattoos..." she started.
"No."
She stopped, glaring slightly, as she moved to cross her arms across her chest. I turned away slightly. I didn't like talking about my tattoos much; it always led to the question of why they were over the top of my scars...
"Oh, come on, just..." Erica tried again.
"No." I told her. "Not talking about them."
"Why not?"
"Because I said so!"
Erica huffed slightly, as she stomped over to the couch and sat next to Boyd, glaring and nothing.
I don't think we had even been quite for a minute when someone spoke up.
"You won't even showing us and telling us what they mean?" Allison asked in that sweet way she always does.
That was not fair. Using such a nice, kind way to speak to the Stiles... That was all kinds of unfair! Even if only Isaac knew why...
Speaking of, I could see the little traitor grinning... He knew I wouldn't be able to resist! He knew that even when he started with those stupid puppy eyes! How these idiots realised that puppy eyes work on me, I would never know!
Even Scott joined Isaac with the puppy eyes!
I think there should have been a rule against ganging up on the new guy...
Sighing, knowing there was no way to get out of this; I stood up, pulling off the t-shirt before laying it on the ground. Once I was standing up straight again, I worked my way round.
"I have runes, not ones that I can use, dotted everywhere." I started. "There's: strength, ice, protection, water, air, sun, Earth, fire, power, defence warrior, journey, freedom, joy, hail, need, day or dawn, ancestral property... I can't remember the rest. I liked the look of them...no really big reveal about why I got them apart from that."
Turning to the right, I folded down the waistband of the sweatpants I was wearing, allowing them all to see the whole of the tattoo on my hip. It was just simply 'Genim' in black with red wolf and purple fox prints. That tattoo pretty much summed me up really...
"My mom came up with my name." I told them. "I decided to go by Stiles when I was, like, three, because the other kids would always take the piss. Everyone else started to call me Stiles, apart from my mom. She was the only one who just called me Genim. I can't let that part of me go... So I got it tattooed."
"What's with the animal prints?" Jackson asked, sitting forward a little.
"Mom loved the foxes and wolves."
Which wasn't a lie! Mom really did love those two animals the most, always admiring the simplicity of their lives, not having to hide anything in their world. There were pictures that she painted dedicated to just wolves and foxes, so many of them having something to do with those two creatures.
"The last one is the triskelion." I sighed, turning around so they could see the tattoo on the centre of my back. "There are loads of meanings for it – the active symbolism of it was: action, cycles, progress, revolution, competition and moving forward. The meanings of the three extensions – spirals, basically – were: spirit, mind, body; Father, Son, Holy Ghost; mother, father, child; past, present, future; power, intellect, love; creator, destroyer, sustainer; creation, preservation, destruction, the three worlds represented by it were: The Otherworld, where spirits, gods and goddesses live, the Mortal World, where you and I live along with plants and animals, the Celestial World, where unseen energies live and move about – like the forces of sun, moon, wind and water –, the lunar symbols associated with it were: mystery, feminine, intuition, subtleness, subconscious, spirituality, illumination and hidden desire. Overall really, the meanings of the triskelion were: personal growth, human development and spiritual expansion."
Hey, I had already said I knew a lot... It wasn't my fault that it still surprised all of them when I came out with all this information about – sometimes – stupid topics.
"My mom and I both liked it." I continued. "I saw it when I was, like, five and since then I've always wanted it done as a tattoo. It was the first tattoo I got, the next one being my name... I had only just turned sixteen when I got it done...the guy didn't ask for an ID, so I didn't give him one. I only got the triskelion and my name because I wanted them... The rest were just convenient."
And that was the most I had said to any of the in one go... Ever! And they all realised that. They all nodded, slowly, still amazed at the amount I had actually said, at the amount of information I had just given up for them.
While they all stared and gaped like fish, I reached down to grab the Batman t-shirt and but it on again, before slumping back down into my original position.
"You got them at sixteen. And you weren't asked for ID?" Danny asked, taken aback.
"Nope." I replied. "Just said what I wanted, had it done, paid and got out of there."
"You realise you could shut him down for that."
"Yeah, I do. But that would mean talking to the people that had no problem with locking me up for the night."
They went quiet again, no one saying anything around me until I had made dinner and everyone was eating.
Tuesday – October 8th – after having a shit load of fully caffeinated coffee with Derek – at a reasonable time – after another stupid nightmare I was herded into Derek's car with Erica and Boyd one our way to school – Isaac had been grabbing a ride with Danny recently.
My Jeep was still getting fixed and, every time I asked Derek, he would just say that it was in the best hands... I didn't know what to make of that. And, while I liked Derek's Camaro, I missed my Jeep. My Jeep was beautiful no matter what anyone said about her. I loved her and she was mine and I missed her.
Surprisingly, it was sunny today, even if it wasn't hot. But it was a nice change from the usual rain.
But even with the weather so nice, I couldn't help but think that something could go wrong.
It was during my first free period that I wished I never thought that.
I had just turned a corner, heading towards the library, when I was greeted with the sight of Isaac, on the floor, bleeding, having the shit kicked out of him by Chase's 'crew'. Isaac was cowering away – who would blame him, with everything that happened with his dad – raising his arms to keep the attack away from his face.
They kicked and punched and pulled and spat...
And boy was I getting pissed!
Correction, I was so beyond pissed, that I was close to going full Alpha wolf and ripping their throats out.
So, that justified my next move of running right over to the three fuckers, grabbing one from behind and using him to bowl the other two over. As soon as the three were on their backs, looking up, I stood over all three of them, growling lowly.
"You do anything to Isaac again, and you'll regret it." I snarled. "I swear to you, I'll do worse than I did that day on the field."
The three of them ran away like the chickens they were.
Isaac, thanks to freaky wolfy powers, had already started to heal. Physically, anyway. He was sat with his back to the locker, trying to push himself onto his feet, and failing big time.
Going over to him, I offered him my hand, pulling him up slowly. Once standing, I let him rest against the lockers, standing ready, just in case he started to tip over.
I could see the tears running down his bruised and cut face, as he shook. Another growl was ripped from my throat as I watched him.
"What happened?!" I demanded, trying to keep my tone soft.
"They jumped me..." Isaac mumbled.
"I can see that. Why were you alone?"
"Scott ran off after seeing Allison go round the corner."
My eyes narrowed slightly, and I fought to keep back the red and purple. I made a mental note to have a little talk with Scott later on...
"Ok, well, let's get you home." I sighed.
I didn't listen to the half hearted complaints as I shouldered Isaac's backpack along with my own, and helped him towards the main reception to sign the both of us out for the rest of the day.
Our teachers would be told and work would be given to someone to give to us. It was fine. And I could always help the kid with what he didn't get.
Now we just had to start the walk back to the house. Stupid not working car...
Getting Isaac into the house was easier said than done. He was tired and using a lot of his strength to heal himself.
But, eventually, I was able to get him onto the couch. Once he was comfortable, I went to the kitchen, grabbing him a glass of water. Water always tasted better after you got the shit kicked out of you, soothing your dry and sore throat. It was also a good idea to stay hydrated while healing, I knew from much experience.
By the time I had brought the glass back to him, Isaac had gone from sitting on the couch to lying across it, hugging his stomach and making this pained little whimpers. Mom always used to say that I was a nurturer – something I got from her –, which was probably why I felt the need to make Isaac feel better.
I guess the need to help people never left after my mom died, since I was the main person actually looking after her. Even if I was only six when she had first gotten ill... I always felt like it was because of something I did that she didn't get better, that she died... And dad always loved to tell me that it was my fault when he decided a good beating was in order.
Shaking my head a little, to clear it, I helped Isaac sit up a little to take at least a sip of water, before letting him lie down again.
"You alright there, kid?" I asked, placing the glass on the coffee table and kneeling in front of him.
"I'm good." he groaned. "And I'm not a 'kid'."
"Well, you're eighteen, right?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, I'm nineteen, twenty at the end of August. I'm older than you. You're a kid"
"You're older by, just over, a year and a month."
Smiling slightly at his protests, I sat down properly on the floor, resting my elbows on my knees.
"Oh? When were you born?" I chuckled.
"July twenty fifth, nineteen ninety five." Isaac muttered, closing his eyes. "You're older by ten months and twenty nine days."
"You're still a kid, kid."
Isaac just stuck his tongue out at me – like I said, he's a kid.
By the time the others returned, Isaac was fast asleep on the couch, while I leaned back against it in front of him, watching TV quietly. I had managed to get word to them to be quiet because Isaac was sleeping before they walked through the door, so it wasn't like they were loud.
Danny came in first, smiling fondly at Isaac, until he saw the slowly fading cuts and bruises. I could feel the shift in his mood, Danny's eyes flashing a golden-yellow. I stood up, placing a hand hesitantly on his shoulder.
"He will feel the change in your emotions, which will wake him up." I explained, quietly. "Do you really want to wake him up, when sleeping helps the healing process?"
Danny sighed, sagging slightly, before dropping to the floor and running a hand through Isaac's hair gently. The young wolf – youngest out of all of us, actually – shuffled slightly, nuzzling into Danny's hand, all while still remaining asleep.
I didn't stand there watching for long though.
No. Instead, I walked over to Scott and asked if I could have a quick word with him, away from everyone else.
Which he agreed to, quickly.
I took him to the training room, letting Scott walk in first. I stayed behind him, just waiting until he turned around.
"So, what's up?" Scott asked, doing just what I was waiting for after he spoke.
As soon as the wolf had turned enough, I let my fist snap forward, hitting him right in his stupid face.
"Are you an idiot?!" I shouted. "Do you have any idea what could have happened if I didn't walk around that corner?!"
"What are you talking about?!" he yelled back, clutching his broken nose.
"Isaac you incompetent fool! You ran off when you spotted a certain hunteress, leaving him alone! Do you know how many times those jackass' have pounded on him because he was alone?!"
"What..."
"Too many fucking times! This is the second time I've had to help him get away from those homophobic knuckleheads, and you know what? I'm not even a part of this dysfunctional Pack!"
I lashed out again, hitting him square in the jaw. My hand would be swollen for a short amount of time, I knew that... But this was worth the bruising and the ache. No matter what anyone said, I had to do this. I had to knock some sense into this kid's thick puppy skull!
"What you have is a Pack!" I screamed. "No! Correction! It's a PACK and a FAMILY! You don't get to pick and choose when your there! You don't get to ditch them when you know they can get hurt by some assholes!"
Scott stumbled back, even though he caught the next punch. I followed through anyway, continuing to push forwards, which threw him off balance.
I could feel my claws growing; feel my fangs threatening to show. But I couldn't let them; I could let any of them see what I really was. God knows what they would do to me if they ever found out...
No, I had to keep it hidden.
"You don't know how lucky you are!" I cried, on the verge of breaking down. "I've had everything, everyone, I've ever loved ripped away from me! I would do anything just to have them back. And here you are, taking for granted a group of people that should matter most to you! What is wrong with you?!"
I spun around, turning my back on Scott.
I was letting my emotions get the better of me, letting my emotions be stronger. So, turning around, I grabbed a hold of a table by a corner and threw it towards the other wall, sending all the equipment on it flying.
I was shaking. Shaking to the point where the tremors were visible. I clenched my hands into fists, hard, letting one of them fly forward to connect with the wall in front of me. The wall was reinforced with a metal not even the strongest supernatural creature or human technology could break. It was designed by the supernatural world to protect ourselves, so the wall didn't even dent.
"Do you even know how much it hurts to watch while someone throws something so precious, so valuable, to the side?" I whispered, choking on my words a little. "Do you know how painful it is to have nothing and no one? Because, trust me, you will if you keep doing what you're doing. And, trust me when I say, you never wanted to know how much that shit kills. How it chips away at your very core, each and every day, making you hollower. Because, let me tell you, once you get to a certain point, there is no going back."
With the last five words, I turned around to face Scott again, not caring about the hot stream of tears pouring down my face.
It was then, and only then, that the rest of the Pack ran in. All looked confused, and all were staring at me.
Maybe I should have closed the door...
Two weeks later – Tuesday, 22nd October 2013 – things were still tense between Scott and me.
Isaac had found out what had happened, but hadn't said anything, and no one else had made any comments. I went back to spending most of my time alone, either staying in the room I had or going on a walk/run.
I could feel the rest of the wolves feel a little tense around me too, since I was actually able to hurt a werewolf, without breaking any bones or being in severe pain myself. Yeah, that was a great way to keep what I really was a secret, huh? Also, it was the need to protect Pack making them wary of me, which they weren't before.
I understood perfectly... But that didn't make it hurt any less, knowing that the few people in this town – or anywhere – that actually treated me like a person were keeping a close eye on me, to ensure that I wasn't dangerous.
But I was.
I was dangerous, but that didn't mean I was bad.
Right? I wasn't bad, was I?
I mean, the only reason I hurt Scott was because he hadn't been there to protect his fellow Pack-mate. It shouldn't have been me, who was technically a stranger. But that was what had happened.
But, anyway, Tuesday 22nd October.
We were all in the kitchen, for dinner. A time where I had to be present.
Everyone was practically done and one by one people took their plates to the sink. It was all a part of the routine we had.
I had started running the water, so I could start to wash everything up, when I heard a faint thud.
"Can you get me another towel from the basement?" Derek asked, more commanded.
I froze. Basement. The basement. I tried to stay calm, but a basement was one place I could never go in a house. Not even my own...
Dad had this thing about dragging me down into the basement, so he could beat me without anyone hearing him... Besides, a basement was the perfect place to hang chains without any nosy eyes spotting them.
I couldn't walk into a basement without an overwhelming sense of fear taking hold of me, constricting my heart and lungs...
But I couldn't let any of them know that. So, I just nodded, swallowing thickly, as I made my way towards the stairs to the basement.
The dark, cold, dark basement.
Where anything could be hiding.
Where anything could be set up.
Where anything could happen.
I had only taken one step when it started to become difficult to breathe.
I was on the second step by the time I had stopped breathing altogether, only faintly hearing my name being called.
I was on the third step when I started shaking uncontrollably, my hands sweating, making me lose my grip on the banister.
I was on the fourth step when the panic overtook me completely, freezing me to the spot, not able to move.
I was stuck, not being able to breathe or move or do anything. I just stared down into the darkness, hearing the memories of my father screaming at me. Of a whip slicing through the air. Of the pained cries of a young teenager. The scent of fear and blood and confusion everywhere at once.
Before I knew it, I was falling. But that was all I knew.
When I woke up, I was lying on something squishy. But it wasn't a bed...
Couch.
I rolled onto my back, only to come face to face with Jackson standing over me. I startled, my first instinct being to punch and run. But Derek caught my fist in time. I gave them both an apologetic sheepish expression, slowly pulling my hand back and placing it in my lap.
"I'm not good with basements." I whispered, feeling very much like a three year old again, explaining how I knew their monsters in my closet. "Too many bad memories. Don't want to go into detail. Stiles and basements don't mix well together."
A wave of understanding came from each and every one of them, something I appreciated greatly.
"Ok, no basements." Derek said, gentleness in his voice that I had never heard before.
From the look – smell – of it, neither had the rest of Derek's Pack. Though, for Peter, he just probably hadn't heard it for a long time.
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Thanks so very much everyone XD