Full summary:

After his dad is murdered, Stiles takes his revenge and finds another part of himself in his magic. Only to be kicked out and turned away by the people who meant most to him. His pack and boyfriend.

Now not knowing what to do, he leaves Beacon Hills to go to New York. There he meets the Avengers and finds a new family and new love.

But can he heal himself with his newfound family?

Stiles denies everything, ''I don't know what you think you know, but I know that I don't know anything about it.''

''Are you trying to confuse me, Mr. Stilinski?''

''Of course not. Why would I want to confuse you? It serves no point in having you confused, the confusion would only grow, and I would be in a tough spot explaining myself to a confused person. Did you know that confusion is a-''

''Please stop talking.'' The man grits out. Stiles nods quickly and puts his lips together. He even zips them and locks them up before throwing away the key, but unfortunately, the man doesn't seem amused. Tough crowd.


AN:

This fic is purely for my own amusement. I got a big, big, big idea in my head and it won't leave me alone. So here is the start!

Stiles has some serious issues and needs a real big hug through this whole story.

I really love the idea of all Avengers living together in the tower, so that will happen at some point, and yup, we are totally going to ignore all the timelines. My fic, my rules!

There will be a bit of Sterek in the first chap, but it's really just a scrap of STEREK, only in the first chapter, and after it, they're through. I really do love Sterek, but I was a little bit obsessed with TW / Avengers crossovers that I just want a crossover ship, and I love Bucky, so hell yes, Stiles/Bucky coming right up! Well, kinda.. Because it's going to happen in a slowburn.

Most of the stories I've read still have the Sterek ship, even after Stiles is pushed out of the pack, but I'm not going to let Stiles forgive Derek for whichever reason he was pushed out of the pack. You'll see!

When sketching the storyline, I saw that this will be a big fic.. So if you like it, subscribe!

Enjoy the story!


Stiles stood frozen, looking at the hole in the ground where the casket was being lowered into. People were talking to him, saying how sorry they were, while Stiles's world seemed to fall apart. Stiles didn't respond to anyone. He just kept looking at that damn hole in the ground. Thankfully it seemed like nobody was expecting him to answer.

He couldn't believe that this had happened. Yes, of course, he knew that he would need to say goodbye at some point. But Stiles had hoped that he would've been at least sixty or something. He had been working on that with every healthy meal he brought the man. He never expected to be just twenty-five when he lost him.

Stiles swallowed heavily before wiping his wet cheeks. The tears hadn't stopped since the service had begun, and he knew that they wouldn't stop for a while.

But that was okay. It was fine. He already knew that he was giving himself today. Today he would be broken. Today he would cry and scream and let himself be comforted by his pack.

However, tomorrow? Tomorrow was a whole different story because Stiles Stilinski would not rest until his dad was avenged.


Derek was stroking the strands of hair out of his face while Stiles let new tears fall. He was exhausted from the day's events, but he couldn't sleep.

Thankfully he had Derek to hold him and take care of him because he knew for sure that without him, he would've fallen completely apart.

He counted his fingers, over and over again, hoping he was wrong. Hoping it was a nightmare. But unfortunately, every time he was done counting, the number was ten.

''It's not fair,'' Stiles whispered in a rough voice in the silence of their bedroom.

He and Derek had been living together for three months now. After nine years of knowing each other, and four of them pining for each other, they had been together since last year.

But when they finally admitted to each other what they felt, they had fallen into the best relationship Stiles ever had. Sure they had their differences, probably more than other couples, and they argued a lot, but they always talked it out, and the makeup sex was amazing.

''I know,'' Derek said while his lips were pressed against Stiles's forehead.

Stiles wants to scream but holds it in. He knows how much Derek has been through. Derek also lost everyone. So if anyone knows how Stiles feels, it's Derek.

''Der, please don't leave me-'' Stiles grits out with a whimper before he dissolves into sobs again. Derek pulls him closer, ''I won't. I love you,'' he then replies softly. Stiles squeezes his arms tighter around Derek's waist. Hoping that Derek got the message that Stiles feels the same, even if he can't utter the words right now. Derek holds him through the night. At some point, Stiles even falls into a restless sleep.

When he wakes up in the morning, he feels empty. His head is throbbing from the tears from yesterday, but he ignores that. He knows his purpose, and he knows it will make Scott riot. But he can't care about that anymore.

Scott was the one that didn't want to use lethal force against the witch that invaded their territory, but since she came to town, four people had already been killed, and Stiles had been this close to stop her- only to have Scott interfere because Stiles would've killed the witch.

The magic he had trained since the Nogitsune had left his body, was extremely temperamental. So if Stiles was angry, his magic deeply reflected that.

He wanted to stop the witch, but when he was ready to make the final blow, Scott was there and ordered him to stop. The witch got away while he and Scott fought. Stiles finally decided it wasn't worth it before going home.

Stiles should've gone to his father's house that night.

Out of revenge for the damage Stiles had done before she escaped, the witch had kidnapped the Sheriff and tortured him for hours. When Stiles finally found him, he was too far gone to be helped. Stiles still tried everything with his magic he could imagine, but it didn't work. His dad died in his arms just before the ambulance arrived, and it had been Stiles's fault.

The witch had been nowhere to be found.

But now, the day after the Sheriff's burial, Stiles was ready.

He showered and dressed almost automatically. Black cargo pants and a dark green henley, which he was pretty sure was one of Derek's. He tied his sturdy black boots and put a special holster on his back for his bat and a couple of vials with herbs.

Derek was still asleep, and Stiles debated for a moment if he should wake him. Deciding against it, he left a note saying he was hunting the witch.

Stiles knew Derek would have his head on a stick after waking up to find him gone. But at least he told where he was headed. Right?

Well, Stiles would deal with it after he killed the witch that took his dad.

Stiles makes his way into the Preserve, letting his magic guide him. At first, he had been afraid to use his magic after the Nogitsune had left him, but with time he was determined to be better, resolved never to let de darkness get a hold of him again. Especially after finding out it had been hereditary.

His magic now flowed from the tip of his fingers, eager to help, and it led him straight to a simple cabin in the middle of the woods.

Stiles grabbed the bat he had strapped to his back. It was embedded with Mistletoe, mountain ash, and other herbs, he designed it himself after Deaton had frowned on the mention of making this kind of weapon. Stiles didn't care what the old Druid now thought of him. He only spoke in riddles and could've been a lot more helpful through the years. But the Druid always claimed that distance was needed for 'balance.'

Stiles didn't have the same mindset as the cryptic asshole.

When Stiles learned how to use his spark fully, his magic only grew. And he was adamant about using it to his advantage for the protection of the pack.

Scott had been wary about Stiles's magic since the beginning, but even he could see the usefulness in some cases, Scott mostly just reaped the benefits of the healing properties while snapping about the offensive side, thinking it was too dark magic if Stiles hurt an opponent. It was a lot like how he reacted to his own wolfy problems.

Scott loved the benefits of the bite, the curing of his Asthma, the extra stamina, the speed, and healing. But he struggled with the wolf side. He didn't want violence and had let go of many of the big bads that had come to town.

Stiles and Scott had fought about it years ago, where Scott yelled at him that Stiles never trusted anyone.

Stiles simply responded that he needed to be suspicious because Scott trusted too quickly and easily.

Scott had let Deucalion go. He had forgiven Theo (Stiles was still bitter about it), he would've let the Darach go, but thankfully Peter Hale had put that to a quick end.

Scott hadn't killed the Nogitsune when he had the chance.

Stiles had been ready to die. He was ready to be stopped, but Scott couldn't do it. Stiles should be grateful somewhere in his mind, but so many people had died because of it that he couldn't completely get over it.

Stiles snapped out of his musings when he heard movement inside the cabin. He walked to the door and kicked it open without a second thought.

The witch was grinning at him, not even surprised to see him.

''You killed my dad.'' He said in a voice he didn't even recognize.

The witch laughed with a cackle, making Stiles cringe. ''I didn't. He just couldn't handle my playtime.'' She said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Stiles snarled and gathered his magic in his hands. He felt a sick sense of pride when the witch stared at the flames that climbed up his arm in fear. She quickly recovered, though, and took a fighting stance herself.

Stiles was waiting her out, his training for an FBI agent still fresh in his mind even if he wasn't with the bureau anymore. He had been there a year when he had gotten hurt on a mission. Nothing too bad, but he still needed to stay in the hospital for about a week. After that, the pack didn't want him in danger anymore. They said he was in enough danger as it was with the supernatural bullshit at home. Stiles had raged, told them it was unfair because it had been his dream to be a federal agent, but in the end, with a lot of needling, he had agreed to stop with fieldwork.

He was now an independent detective. It was more research, and sometimes, Agent McCall still called him for help. He only didn't tell the pack. Afraid that they would ask him to stop.

Lydia had called him a moron to agree with the pack, to agree to let go of his dreams, but Lydia wasn't here anymore. As soon as she could leave Beacon Hills, she did. Ending their romantic relationship with it. Stiles had been devastated at first, but now they were friends and called each other every other day. He could tell that Derek was jealous of their relationship, maybe still afraid that Stiles still held a torch to the strawberry blonde beauty, even if Stiles hadn't loved her in a romantic way for a long time now.

She was now living in New York, working for Stark industries. Stiles was freaking proud of her and envious that she had met the Tony Stark. Come on! He was fucking Iron Man. That was freaking awesome!

But she wasn't pack any more. When she left Beacon Hills, she cut the ties to the pack— but she decided to keep in contact with Stiles and only Stiles. He knew she saw him as her best friend, even if they were exes now, and he didn't mind. They worked a lot better being friends.

The witch finally made the first attack, and Stiles dodged the spell before throwing back his own. He still had his bat in his hand at the ready. They kept going, migrating outside after Stiles had thrown the witch through a window.

As soon as the witch was within striking distance, Stiles hit her with the bat, making the witch cry out in anger and pain. Stiles smiled, probably a bit manic. But he didn't care. He was only focused on one thing and one thing only. The witch needed to die before others would, just like his dad had.

It had been Stiles's fault.

Stiles was pulled into the fight with all of his senses, only to realize his mistake of letting his guard down when he heard a familiar roar. He flinched, knowing that Derek was near, but he kept fighting the witch.

Derek busted into the clearing, beta shifted and ready for any attack. But werewolves are no match for magic.

The witch took advantage of Stiles's distraction, but instead of attacking Stiles, she flung a spell in Derek's direction.

''NO!'' Stiles screamed, not ready to lose anyone else he loved. Derek went down hard and immediately started bleeding and coughing up blood. Stiles was frantically holding the witch back while also scanning Derek with his magic, hoping to find the counter spell so Derek could heal. It started to look so much like the scene with his dad that Stiles, for a moment, didn't know what was real and what wasn't.

''He's going to die, just like your father,'' The witch taunted with a feral grin.

It was the wrong thing to say, and the witch seemed to know it as soon as she said it. Because Stiles's insides turned to ice, he gave the witch a withering look, and she actually flinched back.

''He will not, but you will.'' He let go of his bat so he could use both his hands for magic. It clattered against the ground with a metallic clunk. Stiles was skilled and practiced with his magic, but it almost seemed like his magic had a mind of its own this time. For the first time since he had gotten his magic, purple fire and smoke poured from his hands, and Stiles could feel the magic burning on his arms. It didn't actually hurt, but it was an unfamiliar sensation.

It felt right . It felt like it had been waiting for Stiles his whole life. Maybe it had. He now knew from research that the spark he carried within him had been passed on from his mother. At least, he knew he had gotten it from one of his parents, and his father didn't have an ounce of magic in him. It had helped him accept his magic, but this was a feeling he hadn't felt before. The magic wasn't only located in the pit of his sternum like usual, it was now coursing through his veins, through his whole body, and Stiles reveled in the power rush it gave.

''Y-you-'' The witch couldn't finish whatever she wanted to say, but the fear in her voice was real. Stiles could practically taste it on his tongue.

Stiles shoved his right hand towards the witch, and a purple ball of something Stiles could only call energy speeded to her. She screamed when it hit her before she fell down on her knees, clutching the side where the purple magic had hit her.

He did it again with his left hand and again with his right until the witch seemed to dissolve in purple flames. She screamed the whole time until she died. Her body burned down in what seemed like seconds and was completely engulfed in purple magic. Stiles's magic.

Stiles watched until he knew for sure that she was gone. Then he turned to Derek, who was looking at the witch's remains with a pained expression on his face. Stiles rushed to him and hovered his hands above Derek's wounds. The wounds close a bit faster than Derek's normal healing, but Derek stops him from healing them completely when Stiles swerves from exhaustion.

''I'll be fine,'' Derek says while sitting up with a grunt.

''Are you sur-'' Stiles starts before balking at Derek's scowl. ''Yes.'' Derek grits out with a glare. ''What on earth were you thinking? Going after her by yourself!?''

Stiles's shoulders slump before he straightens them again. ''I did what I had to do! Scott wouldn't-''

Derek holds up his hand to stop Stiles from speaking.

''Scott is your Alpha. You should listen to him.'' Derek declares as if that's the end of it.

But Stiles sees red. ''Fuck that! Because Scott didn't want to kill the witch, my dad is dead! If he only listened to me once in a while, he would've known how much danger the witch would bring, and now you're telling me that I should've listened to him !?''

Derek doesn't respond, and they walk back to the house in silence. Derek had rebuilt the Hale house when he had returned to Beacon Hills. Everyone in the pack had a room there, but most nights, it was just Derek and Stiles.

When they reach the house, Stiles sees Scott pacing the porch. He turns red eyes towards the two of them and takes in how Derek is limping and Stiles is slumping. He sniffs the air and growls.

''You went after the witch,'' Scott states it as a fact, and Stiles simply nods.

''She deserved everything she got,'' Stiles states while crossing his arms in defiance.

Scott growls again before stomping to his bike and rushing away. Stiles is honestly too tired to care at the moment and shuffles inside. He goes to their bedroom before stripping down and stepping into the ensuite.

The shower helps ground him for a moment. He looks down at his hands, trying to figure out what happened. His magic had always been purple, at least, according to Derek. With his wolf eyes, he could see the tendrils of magic whenever Stiles used his powers, but today was the first time Stiles could see it too.

Stiles holds his hands in front of his face, trying to decipher how he did what he did in the clearing. As soon as he thinks about the feeling he had in the clearing, the purple flames and smoke are back, the water doesn't even seem to touch it, and he stares in fascination at this new development.

He seriously needs someone to help him with his magic, but he certainly doesn't want Deaton as his teacher. He scoffs at the idea alone. He would probably maim the Druid within a week.

Besides, Stiles is pretty sure that he has more magic in his pinky than Deaton has in his whole body.

He doesn't know how long he stayed in the shower. He just kept standing in the spray and swirling his hands in random patterns to make the purple move prettily.

He binds a towel around his waist when he finally gets out before entering the bedroom again. His clothes are gone from the floor, probably picked up by Derek while he was in the shower.

Derek himself is lying on the bed, his body tense as if in pain, but Stiles can't see any wounds on his torso. Stiles sits down near Derek's hip, careful not to jostle the wolf too much.

''Are you okay?'' He softly asks. ''Yeah,'' Derek replies simply, and Stiles nods before putting his hand up so Derek can see it without moving.

''Look-'' he then lets his hand glow again with the purple magic, and Derek stares at it in awe. ''-I don't know what this means,'' Stiles murmurs before putting his hand down again.

''You'll figure it out. You always do,'' Derek tells him with a small smile. Stiles returns the smile before leaning down to kiss Derek.

Stiles then gets up to crawl onto his own side of the bed. He curls into Derek's warmth before drifting off. He had done what he needed to do today.

He avenged his dad, and he will not feel guilty about it. Especially not after the witch almost took Derek from him too.


''Thank you for coming to the pack meeting today,'' Scott stands in front of the whole pack with his hands clasped behind his back. It's the most serious Stiles has even seen the other guy.

Stiles glances at Derek. He takes in the tense shoulders and the pained expression. He still isn't recovered fully from the witch's attack.

Something that is also Stiles's fault. He worries his bottom lip, hoping that Derek will talk to him later, but his boyfriend has barely talked to him after falling asleep yesterday. Maybe he blames Stiles too.

''Like you guys all have known, there was a witch in our territory hurting humans.''

Stiles ignores the pitying looks from the rest of the pack while trying to keep it together.

The pack meeting was called by Scott this morning, and Stiles is now sure it's about the witch. If Scott thinks he can scold Stiles like a puppy who has peed on the carpet in front of the pack, he has another thing coming.

''Was? It thought she was still a problem?'' Theo asks with a confused frown. How Scott could've forgiven the lying chimera asshole is a mystery to Stiles.

Stiles just keeps both his eyes open as soon as he's near Theo, and he refuses to let the liar get the upper hand ever again. He wouldn't trust Theo even if they were the only ones in the pack.

''Stiles killed the witch yesterday,'' Scott growls out with a flash of his red eyes. He glares at Stiles, but Stiles simply looks back as if he doesn't care, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, 'what you're gonna do about it?' His magic is hiding his true response. He refuses to show Scott how angry that statement makes him.

Scott only sees the world in black in white. He would've been fine with letting the witch go with a slap on her wrist, while now five people had died.

Including Stiles's dad.

And it was Stiles's fault.

He should've checked on his dad after leaving Scott. He should've hunted the witch sooner and made sure she couldn't hurt anyone else.

The witch tortured and killed his dad because Stiles had almost stopped her.

And Stiles wasn't quick enough to stop her.

Scott's statement that Stiles's killed the witch is met with silence for a moment until Malia breaks it.

''So? That's a good thing, right?'' She asks with a frown. Not understanding that Scott very much thinks that this is a big problem. And no, it's not a good thing in Scott's world.

Scott turns his glare to her, and she shrinks in herself a little.

''We don't kill people! We help people, we protect humans, and Stiles broke our rules.''

Stiles can't believe he's hearing this, he gapes at Scott for a moment before a burst of uncontrolled laughter escapes his lips. When he's sobered up, he glares at Scott.

The pack is shifting a little like they are uncomfortable.

''So what? Are you kicking me out? I'm your Emissary, your best friend Scott, or was at least.'' Stiles says incredulously.

Scott turns to him fully and crosses his arms. The stubborn expression is something Stiles is familiar with. Stiles has a sudden flashback to when Derek had just become Alpha all those years ago. ''Don't you see what you've become, Stiles? You've become a murderer!''

''Didn't we have this exact discussion after you believed Theo instead of me, with Donovan?'' He retorts with a hard glare.

Theo flinches a little, but Stiles doesn't care. He knows the chimera doesn't actually care what it did with Stiles and Scott's relationship at the time, how it broke a friendship. Scott's stubborn expression doesn't shift, and Stiles can't believe he didn't see this coming.

When was even the last time they hung out? He says that Scott is his best friend, but that isn't true. He hadn't been for a long time. Stiles is shocked for a moment by the sudden realization.

''That was different!'' Scott retorts hotly. The red glare in his eyes seems permanent.

''How?! How was that different, Scott? I just helped the pack with my magic-''

''By killing! And don't even think to defend yourself with that you helped the pack with your 'magic.' The witch killed your dad, and that's why you went after her, that's why you killed her.'' Scott yells, and Stiles just loses it. He feels his magic coursing through him like yesterday and feels the burning sensation crawling over his arms. When he glances down, he sees the same purple magic as yesterday.

He looks back at Scott and sees him frowning at Stiles's hands, but Stiles doesn't care. ''YES! And I would do it again because the witch killed my DAD ! Do you remember my dad, Scott? The man that had been in your life for more than twenty years after your drunk, abusive father left you? The man that helped you get your driver's license? The man that liked you better as a son than me ?'' Stiles is screaming now, and he doesn't care. It hurts so much to think about his dad.

''Deaton says-'' Scott starts, and Stiles throws his hands in the air in despair. How the hell has he worked with Scott all those years? How the hell did he survive with such a selfish, reckless, fucking idiot? An Alpha who thinks with his dick on more occasions than the danger real people are in. Scott just ignores the whole statement about Stiles's dad and tries to defend his words with Deaton. It's always fucking Deaton.

''Deaton says, Deaton says-'' Stiles sneers, and he knows he looks ugly doing it, but he can't help himself. ''-do you even hear yourself? That's the problem, Scott! You don't think for yourself! You only listen to Deaton or the pussy you're pounding that week, but when was the last time you actually thought for yourself or even listened to me? I'm your Emissary!''

''That's not true! Allison-'' Scott falters for a moment, and Stiles grits his teeth in annoyance. He knows it was a low blow to bring up Scott's sex life, but apparently, and Scott's mind immediately goes to fucking Allison. Of course, it does. Just another thing that's Stiles's fault... ''-Keep Allison or any other girlfriend I had out of this! And you know what?! Not anymore! I don't want to have a murderer for my Emissary! You've changed too much, Stiles. I barely recognize you anymore.'' Scott spats.

Stiles rears back as if hit, and he puts his hand on his chest, where he feels the Emissary bond break. Tears gather in his eyes, but he grits through them. ''So that's how it is? I'm not the weak human anymore and decide to fight back, and you just cut your ties because you only see the world in black and white?! What about my dad, Scott? Huh!? He didn't deserve to die !'' He ignores the bit about how he has changed. Everyone would've changed with what they've been through! They have seen people they care about die. Of course, Stiles has changed!

''Your dad wouldn't have wanted you to avenge him.'' Scott bristles. Stiles blinks, but tears won't come. Scott doesn't deserve any tears. He turns to Derek, who is gaping at the scene in front of him, and Stiles is tired. He wants everyone to leave his home, but for now, he will go to his dad's house, at least until everyone has left the Hale house. They will figure it out in the morning.

''Come on, Der, we're going,'' Stiles says, proud that his voice doesn't waver.

Derek seems conflicted, and Stiles's heart speeds up. He holds out his hand to Derek in offering, hoping that Derek will take it. Why doesn't Derek take it? ''Derek?'' This time, his voice does tremble.

''I'm not going, Stiles. I- I can't lose another pack,'' Derek doesn't look him in the eye when he says it, and Stiles closes his eyes. This time tears do come, but he refuses to let them fall.

''Fine. I guess that's it then.'' He then crouches down to look Derek in the eye because he's still avoiding his. When he finally catches the hazel eyes, they look pained. Stiles simply says, ''it seems like all those promises meant nothing to you.'' Stiles realizes how flat his voice is, and he thinks he hears Liam whimper behind him. Tears are brimming in Derek's eyes just as in Stiles's. And Stiles hopes that Derek will tell him differently, but-

''I'm sorry, Stiles-''

Stiles lets out a harsh laugh, interrupting whatever Derek tries to say. Stiles's done. He is so done with everything . He should've listened to Lydia years ago when she left Beacon Hills.

''You're not. But it's fine .'' Stiles snarls because he can't let them see him break. His heart is screaming at him, Derek and Stiles had been together for about a year now, and it had been amazing, but apparently, he was alone in it. He thought Derek loved him, and it's not that he doesn't understand where Derek is coming from. The man had already lost two packs, and losing a pack member is like losing a limb. He knows that, and he doesn't wish it on Derek, of course not. Not again, but Stiles is hurt. He is still grieving for his dad, and now Scott is kicking him out, and Derek- well. Stiles has a shit week.

Derek and Scott had come from a far place to where they are now, but Derek has a pack again, and for a werewolf, that means everything. ''It's fine.'' He whispers this time, trying to convince himself. His hands are trembling, and he counts his fingers in his head.

Dammit. It's still ten.

Stiles had hoped that he meant more than pack to Derek, but maybe that's egocentric.

''You could give up your magic, then you can still be pack,'' Isaac tries to convince him, the hope in his voice clear, but Stiles can't hear it. Doesn't want to hear it. He shakes his head at the guy who still resembles a puppy at the age of twenty-six.

Derek flinches because he knows what Stiles's magic means to him. After learning that his Spark came from his mother, it was all that he had left of her, especially after Roscoe finally died after all those years of service, and his magic felt so right . Abandoning it or giving it up was simply not an option for Stiles. It never was after learning more about it.

''I can't do that, Isaac.'' He replies mournfully because he wasn't mad at the others in the pack. He's just furious at Scott and brokenhearted about Derek.

Stiles gasps while the wolves in the pack whimper because, with that simple declaration, the rest of the pack bonds break.

Stiles falls to his knees in pain, and he sees Derek reaching out with tears in his eyes, Sourwolf has come far since he returned to Beacon Hills, but he hesitates now, not knowing if his touch is welcome now they are no longer StilesandDerek, DerekandStiles. Now they are nothing to each other anymore, not boyfriends, not pack, and Stiles silently refuses to keep being friends after this.

Stiles feels a panic attack coming but refuses to have it in front of his pa- former pack.

He struggles upright and flees the rebuilt Hale house. Leaving his stuff upstairs. He can always buy new stuff.

Stiles doesn't remember the ride to his father's house because that was what it had been since he started living together with Derek. The house wasn't his anymore, and he had been at his dad's house maybe one time every two weeks, at least, until his dad died. He still needed to pack it up, but he couldn't make himself do it. And now he needed to do it all alone.

As soon as he barrels through the door, the panic hits him full force, and he crumbles in the hallway.

It had been a long time since his last panic attack, but he knew it was coming from the moment Scott threw him out of the pack and Derek broke up with him.

It was inevitable.

He blinks back to awareness after some time. Stiff in a cramped position while lying on the floor, and he struggles to sit up. Stiles looks around and bites his lip. His first thought was that he could use a hug from his dad. But that will never be possible again.

And maybe Scott is right. Maybe his dad didn't want to be avenged. Maybe Stiles is a horrible son.

Maybe Stiles is a failure.

It's all Stiles's fault.


''I can't stay in Beacon Hills, Lyds,'' Stiles murmurs, half in his glass of whiskey, half to his phone where Lydia's sleepy face is watching him. She had felt devastated that she couldn't come to the funeral, but she had a good reason. He has only forgotten what it was right now. He actually thinks that she didn't want to be pulled back to the hell hole that's Beacon Hills, not that he blames her. Not at all.

Stiles is completely wasted. After pulling himself together when he woke up, he placed wards around the house. He doesn't want any supernatural creatures in the vicinity of this house, and he had a suspicion that Derek would want to check on him after everything that happened, but he didn't want him to. He doesn't want to see the guy that broke his heart.

''Where will you go?'' Lydia asks, not even complaining or saying he should stay. Hell, she didn't even complain when he called her in the middle of the night.

''I don't know yet.'' He murmurs.

''Come to New York.'' Lydia suddenly blurts out, and Stiles frowns in response. Before he can reply, Lydia is talking again. It is a little endearing that she started rambling as Stiles does sometimes since they had been together. ''You can find work here, and you can stay with me in my apartment until you've found something for yourself. Not a lot of supernatural things are happening here because the main New York pack has it all in control. Come to New York, Stiles, you're right, you need to get away from Beacon Hills, I've told you this years ago. And sorry to be blunt, but you don't have anything that ties you there now.'' She finishes, and it hurts, but she's partly right.

''You really want to live with me of all people? My, my, miss Martin, are there some feelings left there?'' Stiles is joking, and Lydia knows it, so she rolls her eyes and scoffs. ''You wish. You know I'm dating someone.'' She probably would've flipped her hair over her shoulder if she wasn't still lying down on the bed.

Stiles grins and waggles his eyebrows. The pain that is in him from Derek leaving is still fresh, but he can do this with Lydia. He's fine.

He's fine.

She probably has been his best friend since they broke up, and he finally got over her. It probably helped a lot when he figured out that he likes guys more than girls. He suspects that she knew that before he did.

Stiles downs the rest of his drink and decides that Lydia is right, he needs to go. It doesn't really matter where he goes, but he needs some time.

Being away from the pack and Derek is the best step he could probably take now. Leaving Beacon Hills will be the first step. Getting some help for himself is a good second.

''Alright. Get the guest room ready, Lyds. You've got yourself a new houseguest.'' He mimics a toast and spills whiskey on his shirt.

''Ah, damn,''

She chuckles softly before telling him fondly,'' get some sleep, Stiles. We will discuss the rest tomorrow. Okay?''

Stiles nods and ends the call before falling onto his old bed without a second thought.


Stiles had forgotten what kind of Goddess Lydia could be. But he's reminded the very next day after he wakes up from his slumber by his phone.

She declares through text that Stiles needs to start packing his essentials and the stuff he wants to take with him to New York before stating that a truck will arrive at two. She then sends the information for a real estate agent in Beacon Hills who will be on his doorstep at noon. After that, she sends him his flight information. He's leaving Beacon Hills this evening.

Stiles is a little overwhelmed.

That feeling is next to nothing compared to Melissa McCall standing at his front door twenty minutes after he has exited the shower and started packing without eating breakfast first.

He lets her in before she can even explain what she's doing there.

Once inside, he starts the coffee machine and pours them both a cup.

''Lydia called me and told me what happened.'' She starts carefully, but Stiles still flinches.

''And I'm so so so sorry, Stiles. For what my idiot son is doing.'' Stiles glances at her in confusion, not expecting this at all. She has her hands clamped around her cup, and her brow is furrowed.

Her eyes are wide and full of tears. ''He has always seen the world as black and white. He probably got that from his father-'' She mumbles a little like an afterthought, and Stiles thinks she's right. Even if he sometimes still works with Agent McCall, he knows how the man struggles with the supernatural aspect of the world. ''-but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that he is being an ignorant child, and I'm sorry that he kicked you out of the pack.''

She's sincere, and Stiles appreciates that.

''Did Lydia tell you that I'm going to leave?'' He asks her in a hoarse voice.

''Yes, she told me, and that's why I'm here, to help. I know how hard it can be to empty your parent's house after you've lost them. Do you know what you want to do with all of it?'' She is being practical. Something Stiles desperately needs at the moment. He can't thank her enough.

''I want a couple of things with me, but the rest can go to goodwill. Maybe we can leave some furniture, but I will talk about it with the real estate agent later today.''

He then sighs and looks around. ''There is still a lot to pack in the meantime. And a lot of my stuff is still at Derek's- but I can buy new stuff.'' He says, waving it away, not really ready to think about Derek at all.

Melissa raises both her eyebrows. ''Well, I can go to Derek's to get your stuff, or we start packing here. I don't mind either - oh!'' She suddenly says as if remembering something. ''Lydia also told me to tell you that you need to remember you have magic. Whatever she means with that. But we can start-''

Stiles blinks a couple of times, not really registering the rest of what Melissa is saying, before he barks out a laugh.

''Just a moment, Melissa, maybe we can finish a lot faster than I originally thought.'' He tells her, feeling incredibly amused.

Melissa raises her eyebrows before sitting back in the chair and waving her hand as if to say, 'go ahead,' and Stiles closes his eyes.

He concentrates again on the magic he felt inside of him the last couple of days, he doesn't know what happened exactly with the witch, but he just knows that his magic has shifted inside him. As if he hadn't been ready for all of it sooner, and now he is.

He doesn't exactly know how to control his magic, but his mind flashed back to the moment with the mountain ash and the club all those years ago, and he just wills it.

He wills his stuff to be away from Derek's house and upstairs in his bedroom. He wills the boxes to unfold. He wills all the belongings he wants to take with him in boxes which pile into the living room. The boxes that need to go to goodwill in the dining room, and the things that need to be thrown away, he just wills them gone.

Stiles hears Melissa gasp and hears cabinets open and close. Ceramic mugs drag over wood and kind of a 'woosh' noice if something flies by. He hears carton shift and tape being pulled, and it's so surreal that he closes himself off for it. He is just focusing on all his belongings and those of his dad finding the right spot.

He doesn't know how long it takes, but something twinges his magic, it almost feels like a pup that wants to show off the stick he found, and Stiles opens his eyes.

The kitchen is empty, and Melissa is standing close to him with wide eyes. ''T-that was new. Remember me to hire you when I need moving.''

Stiles smiles before staggering a little, it has taken a lot out of him, and he feels a bit dizzy. Melissa holds him up and guides him to the couch that's still standing in the living room.

''You need some food and rest.'' Melissa decides, and Stiles simply nods, knowing he won't win a fight against Melissa. ''I'm going to my house to get something to eat for you because everything is gone here... and you are going to sleep until I come back.''

''Yes, mama McCall,'' Stiles mumbles with a smile before making himself comfortable on the couch.

Stiles is asleep before the front door closes after Melissa.

He doesn't know how long he has napped, but Melissa is back and has delicious warm food that makes Stiles's mouth water. He wolfs it down and thanks Melissa about six times before she scolds him.

At noon the real estate agent is at the front door, all perky and ready to make a sale. Stiles barely refrains from rolling his eyes. They walk through the house, and she is telling him how he doesn't need to do anything, just give her the keys, and she will take care of the rest.

He asks her a couple of simple questions, like how long she thinks it will take and how he can fix everything from his new location without coming back. She gives him the right answers, and he thinks she will do fine with the house. He hadn't expected anything less from someone Lydia picked.

When she leaves, the moving truck is just parking, and Stiles sighs. He is drained, but he needs to see this through.

It's hectic, but thankfully, Melissa helps him with everything. Within two hours, everything is packed up in the right truck and ready for its destinations.

Stiles has put a suitcase and bag with his daily needs in his car. He is grateful for Lydia's meddling, but he cancels the airplane ticket. He wants to take his car with him, even if he can't really drive in New York. If he ever goes outside the city, he just wants his own car. Lydia's apartment has private parking, so he can leave his car there. It will take him a lot of time to get there by car, but he deserves some time off. At least, that is what Melissa and Lydia tell him.

He needs to find himself or heal a little. Or something like that.

He turns to Melissa and sees that she's holding back tears. He hugs her close and promises to call her every week to chat. Then he says goodbye and steps into his car.

For the first half an hour, he's still in Beacon Hills territory, but as soon as he passes through the wards he himself had put up, he knows he has left the pack's territory and sighs in relief. Scott and Derek will have felt him leave. Scott because he's the Alpha, and Derek because he's Scott's second.

Stiles parks the car for a moment and closes his eyes. He lets go of the wards and ties he still has left to the land. He refuses to feel bad when the wards fall. They needed Stiles's magic to function, and because Stiles pulls his magic back, they fall and crumble into nothing.

Scott, as Alpha of the territory, needs to get someone to put up new wards, he will probably use Deaton, and Stiles can't help but smirk. Because anything Deaton will put up will be at least ten times less powerful than Stiles had put up.

He does feel bad that Derek and the pack will need to fight more for their lives again. It's not that he doesn't love them anymore, but it's not like they stopped Scott from kicking him out. Not even Derek stopped Scott.

Derek even broke up with him, and he understands. He really really does, Derek doesn't want to go through losing another pack, something most people (werewolves) won't feel in their whole lifetime, and Derek went through it twice already. Something that has to hurt like a motherfucker, Stiles knows he hasn't felt the whole brunt of it when he was kicked out because he isn't a wolf, but it still hurt like a bitch. He can't imagine feeling it again.

He had just hoped that Derek would choose him. Would be with him whatever it took. They could be their own pack, could still be together, but Derek didn't want that. He left Stiles, even after he claimed that they loved each other and that he would never leave.

He promised, and he didn't keep his promise.

But on the other hand, Derek had gotten hurt because of Stiles, and Stiles got kicked out of the pack because of his anger and need for vengeance. And Stiles knows his dad died because of him.

So maybe Derek is right to leave him.

Because it's all Stiles's own fault.


Stiles decides to make a week trip out of the drive to New York, just to have some fun on the way and get used to being on his own again.

Of course, he still has Lydia, but it isn't the same. He doesn't have his dad anymore to call whenever he wants to. He can't bitch to Derek because the man has made his choice.

And Scott, well, he and Stiles weren't as close as Stiles had hoped.

Ever since Scott had been bitten, he and Stiles had started drifting apart. It's funny how, now Stiles is forced to take a step back, that he finally can see that their relationship has never been healthy.

Stiles had clung to Scott because he had been afraid to end up alone if he didn't have Scott by his side.

And now that kind of came true.

Stiles scoffs to himself. He's bringing himself down. But mostly, he's trying not to think about Derek. If he starts thinking about Derek, he knows he will be an emotional wreck, and he wants to keep driving. He will fall apart alone in his room tonight or tomorrow morning, depending on how far he wants to ride and how he feels.

He makes a stop in Las Vegas for some dinner and to call Lydia and the real estate agent.

He's just enjoying a big burger and looking around curiously when he sees someone on one of the rooftops. His training immediately kicks in, and he's watching the person like a hawk. The person seems to just observe, but Stiles doesn't trust it. He looks around, but nobody is paying him much attention, so he decides to move in the direction of the person's target.

Stiles leans against a brick wall in an alley, still watching the person on the roof. He's pretty sure it's a man, and - oh , he's on the move. Stiles scrambles after the man and looks around to determine who the man's target is. Who is he following?

He then sees a man in a grey suit with big eyes and a scar on the side of his head. Everything about the man screams bad news, the way he talks on his phone, the way he pulls a girl with him quite forcefully by the arm around her hips. Stiles thinks she is a sex worker with the way she just looks bored and as if she's used to it, but mostly Stiles just knows this man is bad news is the way he can feel his magic rebelling inside of him, ready to strike.

There are a couple of possibilities here. The man on the roof is following grey suit to kill him, maybe for a contract, or maybe for himself out of revenge. And well, Stiles knows he can't judge about taking revenge.

Or it's all a lot bigger, and grey suit is maybe a mob boss or something, and the man on the roof is a fed.

Stiles debates if he should step in, but he knows how bad it will be if he interrupts a mission of an agency.

He is just about to turn away when he hears a man yell behind him. A quick peek around the corner tells him that it's the man in the grey suit.

''You took my money, didn't you? You bitch!'' The man yells while hauling the girl from earlier towards the alley Stiles is hiding in. The girl looks terrified, maybe just eighteen or something, her lower lip is wobbling, and Stiles decides to step in, even if it messes up a mission.

''You're going to pay me back! On your knees, right now!'' Grey suit thunders while pushing the girl down just when they have entered the alley. They are out of sight of the regular people walking on the street. And if anyone has seen what is happening, they are turning a blind eye, not wanting any trouble.

Grey suit is already starting to open up his pants while pushing the girl towards his crotch. It makes Stiles furious, and he quickly puts his hoodie over his head before making his way toward the couple.

''Hey! Let her go!'' At times like this, he misses his badge from the FBI, now, he just looks like a random weirdo that decides to do something stupid, but on the other hand, most people won't take him seriously like this. In other words, they will underestimate him.

Grey suit looks at Stiles like he's no better than the shit under his shoe and scoffs.

''Keep walking, man, or you're going to join her on your knees.'' He sneers.

''Ugh, dude, you're so not my type. Now let her go before I decide that we need the cops.'' Stiles shifts, and he hopes that the man on the roof doesn't have a clear sight of the alley because Stiles's magic is tingling to be used.

The man in the grey suit then pulls out a gun from the inside of his jacket and points it at Stiles, completely gangster-style, with the gun on its side. Stiles wants to roll his eyes but doesn't feel intimidated. The girl on the ground is watching everything with tears streaming down her face and seemingly terrified of what will happen to Stiles or her. Stiles isn't sure.

''You listen here, little shi-'' are grey suits last words because there is suddenly a large hole at the front of his head that starts leaking blood—Stiles gags and takes a step back when the man falls forwards. The crunch Stiles hears is sickening, but the man was already dead, so a broken nose is not something mentionable.

''Target exterminated.'' Stiles hears another man say, and it sounds almost robotic in the tone the man uses. When he looks away from the corpse, he sees a man dressed in black with a gun and, more noticeable, a fucking metal arm.

''What the fuck?!'' Stiles hisses in shock. The man then looks at him, and Stiles sees sea blue eyes and a black mask covering the most significant part of the man's face. Around his eyes, there is black makeup. Stiles thinks that the man really doesn't want to be recognized in any possible way.

The girl is still kneeling on the ground, complete in shock, and without any other words, the metal-arm-man raises his gun and shoots the girl. She didn't even register what was happening fast enough to scream.

The metal-arm-man then raises his gun and points at Stiles. And Stiles thinks he's about to die, but thankfully his magic kicks in, and purple flames engulf him fully. He closes his eyes and hopes for the best, not knowing what is happening, but then he suddenly gets a shock through his system, and he falls back on his ass on concrete.

He gasps and starts panting as if he's run miles. When he looks around, he finds himself on the ground next to his car.

What the actual fuck?!

''How the fuck am I not dead?'' He asks nobody in particular, secretly glad that nobody answers him.

He scrambles into his car and starts driving, he's exhausted, but he needs to get out of Vegas.

He has seen enough of it for probably a lifetime.


Stiles is drained, but after what happened in Las Vegas, he decides that he wants to be as far from the city as possible.

He maybe is a little afraid of the metal-arm-man. But nobody needs to know that.

When Stiles almost falls asleep behind the wheel, he forces himself to stop for a few hours of sleep.

He keeps doing this until he reaches Chicago. There he books a pretty good hotel and gets drunk.

Extremely drunk.

When he left Beacon Hills and the wards, he also destroyed his sim card and bought a new one without giving anyone his new number. (except Lydia, of course).

And now he's drunk, and he's never been more happy to have done that.

Because calling your ex when drunk is always a bad idea, and Stiles is too drunk to remember Derek's number, so this is a win for him.

He meets a couple of vampires in his drunken haze and asks them many questions. A lot of them are borderline rude and intrusive, but Stiles has never been known for being subtle.

''But-but wait- you're tell-telling me that you can have sex, b-but how d-do you get a-a boner, 'cause, dude, your heart has stopped. H-how does blood go there?'' He asks incredulously.

Thankfully, Dawn (the vampire, yeah, Stiles laughed for about five minutes about that) is pretty chill with these questions and just laughs.

''I don't know how it works exactly, Stiles, but it does. Thank God because otherwise, I would've staked myself.'' Dawn tells him with a smile.

Stiles gasps. ''Dude! You-You can curse with God? I t-thought yo-you would go up in flames!'' He gestures wildly with his arms, spilling his drink everywhere.

Dawn laughs again and puts his hand on Stiles's. Dawn is pretty cold, but his eyes are pretty, and his hair is blonde. He doesn't look like Derek at all, but still- even when drunk and out of his mind, Stiles can't do it. Not yet anyway.

''L-look dude, you se-seem like a gr-great dude, but I just-'' Stiles puts his index finger and thumb really close to each other. ''-just got out of a pretty intense re-re-relationsti- fuck-'' Stiles shakes his head a little and takes another sip before trying again. ''-relationship with a werewolf. I-I can't.''

Dawn pouts but nods in understanding, which is great, so - so great, because Stiles would probably cry right now if he would just dive into sex with anyone.

Dawn does bring him back to his hotel and gives him a kiss on his hand like an old-time gentleman. Stiles then stupidly remembers he wanted to know how old Dawn really is, but the vampire is already gone.

Stiles blacks out almost immediately after reaching his bed, only to be wakened by his phone way too soon.

He flails around blindly until he finds it on his nightstand and answers with a bleary ''sup?''

''Stiles,'' Just with the way she says his name, Lydia can make him feel scolded.

''I'm fine,'' He responds automatically before wincing, knowing it sounded way too defensive.

Lydia keeps silent on the other side of the phone, waiting him out. And unfortunately, she knows he will break first.

''Really, just fine,'' He tries again, forcing a smile on his face to force the cheer in his voice.

''Why didn't you call for three days?''

Had it been three days already since Vegas? Mh, not good. She sounds pissed. How drunk has he been?

''You know, same old same old, enjoying my road trip, eating burgers, almost getting killed, flirted with a vamp-''

''Almost getting killed? What the actual fuck, Stiles?'' She hisses on the phone. Stiles grimaces.

''I'm gonna tell you when I reach New York, okay?'' He tries, and he secretly hopes she forgets when she sees him again.

''You better. When can you be here?''

Stiles looked at the clock on the wall and decided that he really didn't want any more stops in between.

''I can be there tonight at eleven.''

It's worth the trouble from Lydia's happy squeal. When she has calmed down, Stiles has a smile on his face. ''Be careful. If you're tired, stop driving.''

''Yes, Miss Lydia, of course, Miss Lydia,'' He mocks, making Lydia sigh, but he can tell it's fond.

They talk for a couple of minutes before Stiles decides that he reeks and goes to the bathroom for a shower.

After he has gotten some coffee and a few breakfast burritos, he's on his way to New York. And he hopes that he's also on his way to a better part of his life.


Stiles thinks he has gone deaf when he finally reaches New York, and Lydia has yelled and squealed for about ten minutes. Damn Banshee vocal cords.

''I'm so glad that you're here. I missed you so much, Stiles!'' She gushes, making him smile for what feels like the first time in forever.

She quickly sobers, though. ''I only hoped it would be under better circumstances.''

Stiles shrugs and grabs his bag to have something in his hands to fiddle with. Thankfully, Lydia sees the way he holds himself and guides him inside without another word.

Stiles drops his bag at the kitchen counter and whistles appreciatively. The apartment is huge and beautiful. The kitchen is simple, black with a marble countertop and a lot of space for someone that doesn't cook often. He knows that Lydia hates cooking, so he's curious about who cooks in the huge beautiful kitchen. One wall in the living room is completely covered in bookcases with books all over, and Stiles's inner child squeals in glee. He has always loved reading.

There are three bedrooms, an office, and two bathrooms. Lydia shows him one of the guestrooms and states he can stay forever long as he wants. But he already knows that he won't stay long here. He wants a place for himself, somewhere to call home. It's also a little about the fact that he wants to prove to himself that he can take care of himself.

They settle down on the couch with a couple of glasses of wine, and Lydia urges him to tell her what happened.

He tells her what has happened with the witch and his father, Scott, and Derek.

They cry together about his father, curse the witch and Scott together, and Lydia lets Stiles be heartbroken over Derek. Knowing he just needs a shoulder to cry on for now.

Lydia then marvels over his new magic.

''This is amazing, Stiles, I can't remember if I have read anything about this, but it's mesmerizing,'' Lydia tells him with a soft smile, touching the purple tendrils carefully. He smiles at her. ''It feels like coming home, I already thought my magic was at its limit, but it isn't. This magic can do so much more than a couple of wards, and it's almost instinct to use it. It kind of teleported me a couple of days ago when I was-'' He bites his lip, knowing that Lydia will push, but also not wanting to tell her about metal-arm-man.

''When you were what?''

Stiles sighs and puts down his glass of wine. ''When I was about to die, my magic engulfed me and just took me away from the threat. Someone was about to shoot me after he had killed two others, but my magic reacted before I could do anything else, it was insane, Lyds.''

Lydia stares at him for a moment before hitting him on the shoulder. ''You almost got shot?! Stiles! The reason I wanted you out of Beacon Hills was so you would be safer! And now you're telling me you can get in trouble everywhere you go? Why am I not more surprised? You can get in trouble when you're asleep!'' She rants, making Stiles scowl.

''That's not fair, and you know it. I didn't know my magic could make stuff float!''

''And that other time when you turned blue-''

''Irrelevant! Deaton told me that it was a natural reaction-''

''Don't make me start about those pixies!''

''I don't want you to start about the pixies!'' Stiles exclaimed, laughing. He threw his arm around Lydia and hugged her to his side before kissing her on her temple. ''I missed you,''

Lydia had calmed down a lot after high school and university. She wasn't and didn't want to be the queen b anymore. She was calm and collected and great to talk to. When she decided to move to New York for her studies, Stiles was heartbroken at first. Because she also broke up with him.

But they both knew deep down that it wouldn't have worked out eventually.

''Missed you too,'' Lydia replies with a sigh.

Stiles settles down with Lydia leaning against him. He thinks back to how he always got into trouble with Scott, and he feels a pang of loss. Thinking back on how his dad would be all exasperated when they had been bad, how Scott couldn't lie to save his life.

About how Stiles always was the one who pulled Scott into mischief.

How Stiles had pulled Scott with him to go search for a body in the woods, how Scott had gotten bitten because of that.

How everything that happened to them after had been because Stiles was a mischief-maker.

Everything that happened to them, to his old pack, had been Stiles's fault.


AN:

I hope you liked the start!

Did you see what I did there? Huh? Huh? Huh?!

Please let me know what you think! I will post the chapters I've already written asap! I have finished the big lines of the story, but the details will probably be killing.

Ah well. We'll see what will happen.

xx MBlack93