Prologue:
Even hours later, Stiles wasn't sure how he got home. He didn't remember driving himself, and as he was alone in his room when he came back to himself, there wasn't anyone around he could ask either. And then it hit him...he was alone.
No Scott. He had lost his best friend, because in some fundamental way Scott had changed, and it wasn't the werewolf. He had chosen to betray Derek, who had done all he could to make him pack, to prevent him from becoming an Omega, and Scott had done it for a girl who had hurt him and his friends over and over again.
Stiles had also lost all those dreams and fantasies of his, about him and Lydia. She was with Jackson, really, REALLY with Jackson. Like she was the fairytale prince waking Jackson's Sleeping Beauty. Which was both hilarious and awful, and when Stile began laughing at the image of that, his laughter quickly turned into harsh sobs that hurt his bruised ribs and aching head.
When he thought of the other crush he suffered through, the ache in his head and heart grew worse, and his sobs intensified. It wasn't enough for him to have lost out on his crush on Lydia, but to have lost out on Derek? Afterall the older boy was way out of his league, but he had thought that Derek at least had thought of him as pack… Now he had to realize that that had been a fantasy of his own making.
He'd lost his father's trust, with all the lying he had been doing. He just couldn't risk his father by getting him involved in the supernatural. He couldn't lose him too.
Catching his breath before it could get too out of hand, Stiles found himself staring fixedly at the door to his room. He really was alone, and he could feel the emptiness of the house settle around him and wondered when he had lost everything; his best friend; his easy relationship with his dad; his love/obsession. And when his life had become a horror story instead, filled with mythical creatures and monsters.
When had he become weak? The damsel in distress? He may not be a werewolf, he may have some trouble concentrating at times, but he was the one who supplied EVERYONE with information, he was the freaking Sherlock of the pack, figuring things out and saving the day, (only without being an anal/quasi-sociopathic asshole). And that was the problem...he WASN'T pack... Then what was he? The human loser, bullied by the Alpha, beaten by his female beta and threatened by everyone, his own best friend trying to kill him...
Shaking his head and shaking himself out of his dark thoughts, Stiles turned to look out the window and saw the lightening of the sky...a new day was soon beginning. And made a decision that was out of left field even for his scattered brain. He wasn't going to spend another day being the victim in this town.
He was leaving Beacon Hills.