Despite his concussion Stiles managed to give Roy accurate directions back towards his hotel on the edge of the glades. The state of the building made Roy wonder, for a fleeting moment, what Stiles' father would say if he knew Stiles was staying at a place like this, but then he forced the thought aside. The Sherriff, Roy was sure, would be too happy knowing that Stiles was still alive to care about the level of accommodation Stiles was using.

Luckily for Roy, Stiles was lucid enough to still be able to clamber up the fire escape of the adjoining building without any issues, which looked like it had been abandoned following the Glades earthquake, and had been condemned, but was still solid enough that it hadn't been pulled down yet. From the roof of the building it was easy to enter the hotel and get to Stiles' hotel room door without being seen by anyone…which was important as, although Roy was wearing his civilian clothing, Stiles was still wearing his gear and was carrying his bow in his left hand.

The minute they entered the room Stiles moved away from Roy, walking far better than he had at the Arrow Cave as he began thoroughly searching the room.

"Er…are you okay, Stilinski?"

"Shhh…I'm looking for bugs or bombs, douchebag." Stiles hissed, his eyes clear and focused. Roy shut his mouth and watched in amazement. Even though he knew it was Stiles…the same old Stiles who had made warming the bench at Lacrosse an art form, used his wits as a weapon and sarcasm as his only defense and had flailed his way through P.E. class, thoroughly searched the room with a degree of seriousness Jackson had only rarely seen Stiles display in the long years that they'd known each other.

"All clear," Stiles finally announced, before he heavily sat on his bed and rubbed a weary hand over his face.

Roy didn't say anything, still too overwhelmed by how much Stiles had changed since the last time he'd seen him, the summer in between their sophomore and junior years of high school. This version of Stiles moved like a predator…like a hunter…like Chris and Allison, and Oliver and Sara, and Jackson himself.

"What the hell happened to you?" he finally choked out.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "when exactly are you referring to?"

"Since…" Roy began before he broke off. He knew what had happened to Stiles when he'd been taken over by the Nogitsune. Scott, Lydia and Derek had told him everything that had happened since he'd left, and they hadn't stinted on the details. He knew how badly Stiles had been coping after they had finally defeated the dark Fox spirit…how broken he'd been.

Roy understood…he'd been there, after the Kanima. He didn't remember what he'd done when he'd been the Kanima, but he'd been told who he had killed…what he'd done under Matt, and then Gerard's, influence. Roy didn't like even thinking about it, hating that he hadn't been in control of his own actions at the time, and he hadn't actually killed anyone that he'd known, (aside from sort of knowing Isaac's dad), nor had any of his friends died during his time as the Kanima, so he guessed it must have been a lot worse for Stiles.

"Since the Queen's Gambit went down," Roy said finally, and he knew he'd said the right thing from the grateful look Stiles sent him.

"Take a seat, this might take awhile."

"Are you sure you're up for it?" Roy asked even as he moved towards Stiles, planning on sitting beside him on the end of the bed.

Stiles sighed and shrugged, "talking about what's happened since I left Beacon Hills is so much easier than talking about the stuff before I left. Besides, you all seemed pretty convinced that I had a concussion…talking will keep me awake."

''Are you concussed? I'm certain you've been concussed enough times by one of us shoving you into a wall to know what it feels like," Jackson smirked.

Stiles snorted, "If I am it's not too bad…I was actually acting when Sara was escorting me out… if they think I'm concussed I thought they might leave us alone together so we could catch up…and I wanted to lay a guilt trip on Oliver a little…although I don't blame him for doing what he did. I would be the same if it was Sara that was being watched…I'm more annoyed at myself for not noticing him coming, getting caught up in watching you."

"I do have that affect on people." Roy bragged, something he hadn't done much of since he'd let go of his former identity.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "You never change, do you?"

"And how did you know they were going to send us off together? You were practically hanging off Sara well before Oliver told me to go with you."

"I know how Oliver thinks…I lived with him for over a year on a presumably deserted island…I got to know him pretty well. He would want to give both of us the chance to catch up, especially since he knew that you must have known me…the me I was before…before things happened, and he would hope that you would be able to bring that me back from the dead."

"Is that even possible?" Roy scoffed.

Stiles shrugged, "I don't know…Pretty sure that person was buried in the ground in Beacon Hills cemetery with all of…them."

Roy didn't need to ask to know who Stiles was referring to when he said 'them'. It was fairly obvious…Allison, Aidan, everyone else who died in events related to the Nogitsune's reign of terror in Beacon Hills.

"So…Oliver's mentioned snippets of what happened after the Queen's gambit went down, although he never mentioned you. I thought that meant that you drowned the night it went down and that was the end of it."

"I don't remember much of that night," Stiles admitted, "it's all this big blur…and no, that has nothing to do with the potential concussion I may have right now…I've never been really clear on the details. I remember lying in my bed on the boat, staring at the ceiling of the cabin Oliver had given me, and actually being grateful that I was barely eating, because I had been I would have thrown up by then. The storm…it was bad…and it felt like it had been going on for ages…and then everything tipped, and I was in the water, and I don't remember much of what happened after that…I think I hit my head and blacked out. The next thing I know I'm lying in the life raft with Oliver and his dad looking down at me, and Oliver asking me if I knew were Sara was…and I knew then that she hadn't made it. Apparently Oliver saw me lying on a bit of wreckage floating in the water and he'd argued with his dad for ages about whether or not to pull me into the boat…they were already worried about the supplies lasting. Oliver won, and he pulled me into the boat. I woke up a few hours later. We lasted another day…or maybe two, but the supplies were running out. Oliver's dad shot the only member of the Gambit's crew that survived, and then he turned the gun on me."

Roy stiffened slightly beside Stiles, hearing the way his former pack mate's voice caught ever so slightly.

"I was so ready for death," Stiles continued on, his gaze distant, so much like Oliver's when he was remembering his own experiences, or Diggle sometimes, "Of the three of us I was by far in the worst physical shape…I was drowning in guilt over what happened back at home, and I knew that I would be in so much trouble for leaving Starling City in the first place, if we ever made it back. I was exhausted…physically, mentally and emotionally. I looked Robert Queen in the eye and told him to shoot, that he and Oliver deserved the chance to live, and that I didn't. I closed my eyes after that and began counting seconds in my head. Robert said something, but I didn't pay attention to what it was. Ten seconds later the gun went off, and I opened my eyes. Robert Queen had shot himself in the head, and all I could do was sit there and watch as Oliver screamed. Not long after that we finally washed up on Lian Yu."

Roy watched Stiles as he spoke, using his memories of Stiles from before to compare the two. Perhaps it was the topic of the conversation, or the fact that Stiles was older and more mature now, but he seemed so subdued…with nowhere near the level of energy that high school Stiles had possessed.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that…after what you went through back in Beacon Hills," Roy offered eventually, once it became clear that Stiles didn't want to talk any more.

"Thanks," Stiles murmured in reply, his voice soft as he looked at his feet, scuffing at something that looked suspiciously like a bloodstain on the carpet.

Roy looked around, not knowing what exactly he could do to help Stiles, not knowing what to say. Usually it was one of the others that did the talking and not him. Stiles didn't seem to be keen on giving any suggestions.

"How…how's my dad?" Stiles said after a lengthy pause. Roy let a touch of a smile cross his face. Stiles worrying about his dad was something he could associate with high school Stiles.

"Last I heard he was going okay. It was a bit rough early on…when I was still in Beacon Hills…but Danny's been keeping track of him…the pack's been taking good care of him. Derek moved in with him not long after I left. Um, there's something I should probably tell you though, but you have to promise you're not going to chuck a fit."

"What…what happened," Stiles' voice caught with anxiety, his eyes filling with fear.

"It's nothing bad...I promise." Roy reassured quickly, "probably the best thing that could have happened to him."

"What?" Stiles asked. Roy exhaled.

"Your dad married Scott's mom a couple of months before Oliver got found. She was the one that held him together the most after you…"

"Died," Stiles offered, "after I died. I'm glad that he's happy…that he's got her to look after him."

"The rest of the pack looks after him too," Roy gently corrected, "Scott, Kira and Lydia take turns taking him dinner when he's working late or he's on night shift so he doesn't get junk food…and his main deputy…Parrish…he looks out for him while he's at work."

"That…that's good."

"Moira Queen came and visited one time," Roy offered, and a frown crossed Stiles' face.

"Not long after the boat went down," Roy continued, "she wanted to pass on her condolences to your dad. We were all there that day…the entire pack, or what was left of it. She paid for your memorial…the empty grave with a headstone, the service, grief counseling for your dad, Scott and Lydia…"

"I thought she was involved in it, though? She and Malcolm Merlyn and the rest of their little crime syndicate planning to wreck the Glades?" Stiles asked, "A couple of members of the League told me about it when they got sent after him."

"That's what Felicity and Oliver thinks, but there isn't any evidence…not anymore. When she was in Beacon Hills she did smell a bit off…Guilt, Derek said. She reeked of guilt…but we put it down to the fact she blamed herself for Oliver letting you and Sara on board, not that she was actually involved."

"And now she's dead…thanks to Slade..." Stiles mused thoughtfully.

"Did you meet him…you said you were on the island, did you meet Slade?"

"I did," Stiles nodded, "I was suspicious of him at first…I always was good at picking the bad guys…but I didn't really have another option. If I was going to survive that God forsaken island Slade was the lesser of two evils…and he did save my life on more than one occasion…even though he did eventually turn into a raving psychopath. In the early days though he was very normal...just as normal as Oliver and I were at the time. He thought it was hysterical that I was better than Oliver at pretty much everything survival based, considering I was just a high school kid…until I started having nightmares again and he and Oliver realized that the reason I was good at those things didn't involve fluffy bunnies…unless you count Derek."

Roy snorted, "If I was talking to Derek at the moment I would tell him you said that…even if it was only to watch him growl at you and threaten you again."

"Eh, his threats wore off after the first month," Stiles shrugged, "Lydia though…she was legit terrifying."

"I already knew that…I dated her for the better part of two years. Why do you think we watched the Notebook so often?"

It was Stiles' turn to laugh, "What's she up to at the moment…I half expected her to have taken over the world by now."

Roy pursed his lips thoughtfully, "She went to MIT after graduating…she graduated top of her class in the minimum possible time needed for her course in I don't even know how to pronounce it but it's about math." Roy told him, "Then she went and did her masters at Caltech…she's back at Beacon Hills at the moment, her mother made her take a year off, because she hadn't stopped since the summer after they all graduated. Lydia's mom was convinced she was heading for a breakdown. I think Lydia's been taking the opportunity to get to know Deputy Parrish some more, if Danny's correct.

"Who is Danny getting his info from? You said he was out of Beacon Hills."

"Yeah, he and Ethan are living together in L.A. Danny's working at one of the big I.T. firms there and loving it. He and Scott email fairly regularly, and Lydia emails him as well and keeps him up to date with what's happening with the pack."

"So…who's in the pack these days?" Stiles asked, "Is there anyone new?'

'No-ones had kids yet, if that's what you're asking," Roy grinned at Stiles, "Although from what Lydia tells Danny she reckons that Scott and Kira will be announcing that they're engaged within a year from now. Other than them, there's Lydia, of course, and Derek, Scott's mom, your dad, Deputy Parrish…his name is Jordan, Chris Argent, and Scott bit a freshman not long after I disappeared…his name is Liam. That's it."

"Wow…nine…and only, what, three are actual werewolves?"

"Yeah…but Scott's a true Alpha…that's keeping a lot of other packs away. He's got a little bit of fame these days."

"And Peter's gone?"

"He went off the deep end not long after you vanished and ended up locked up in Eichen House. He escaped and tried to kill Scott. Chris Argent saved Scott's life and Scott killed Peter. Derek and Chris dismembered the body so he couldn't be brought back." Roy explained, wincing and shooting an apologetic look at Stiles when he mentioned Eichen House. Stiles swallowed, but otherwise gave no reaction, so Roy guessed that he was okay.

"Scott wouldn't have liked that…having to kill," Stiles finally observed. Roy nodded his head, knowing that Stiles was right. Scott had always hated killing, and had always done all he could to find another way when dealing with someone.

"What's he doing these days…other than Kira?" Stiles asked with just a hint of a smirk.

Roy laughed, "He's working with Deaton at the moment. He's studying to be a vet part time at the community college closest to Beacon Hills. Kira studied there too, only she was full time, and now she's finished. She works as a teacher at the elementary school. Isaac is still in Europe, although he keeps in touch with Scott and Chris. He's met a girl from Germany, and he's been made a member of her pack, based in the Black Forest somewhere. He sounds like he's quite happy. Chris is still doing his work as a legal arms dealer, although Scott mentioned in his last email that Chris was thinking about selling the company and retiring. Derek…well…he's Derek. Looks out for everyone and frowns a lot. I couldn't get over how much you dying messed him up though. He and Scott and Lydia were convinced that because Lydia didn't scream you were still alive. Eventually Deaton sat them down and explained that Lydia's still learning to use her abilities. You were simply too far away from her when you died…and you had your mental barriers up as high as you could get them because of what had happened. It was why she didn't scream. You're not a wolf, so it wasn't like you had strong pack ties with them like Derek would have had to his family, or like Scott and Derek tried to build with me, although your mental walls didn't help that situation as well."

"Lydia never screamed for me?" Stiles asked.

Roy shook his head, "Lydia told me all about it, before I left. The day the Queen's Gambit sank Lydia had a dream. A boat…The Queen's Gambit, being tossed about in a storm and then sinking…and a flash of your face. That was it. By then we all already knew that you were on the Queen's Gambit. Detective Lance, as he was back then, called your dad the moment he found the note you left him, just in case you'd changed your mind and were heading home instead. Then they found CCTV footage of Oliver helping you and Sara on board. Your dad told the rest of the pack, but none of us could do anything…and then the Queen's Gambit sank. Lydia thought…hoped…that the dream was just her imagination, some tenacious vision regarding how turbulent her own emotions were, and how you were her anchor, or something like that…and then your dad got a phone call from Lance. The Queen's Gambit had sailed into a bad storm and had sent out an SOS…but when rescuers reached the scene as soon as they could after the storm had passed there was nothing left but a little bit of floating debris. It was concluded everybody on board had died."

Roy could only watch as Stiles put his head in his hands, letting out a shuddering breath, "Lydia didn't deserve that…none of them did," he finally sighed, "I shouldn't have gotten on the boat that day."

"It's not like you knew it was going to sink," Roy pointed out, "and you can't blame yourself for wanting to get away, not after what you'd been through."

Stiles simply shrugged, and Roy felt anger wash over him. He grabbed Stiles' shoulder, pulling on it hard so Stiles would look at him.

"Hey…if you hadn't forgotten I was controlled too, remember? Me, with scales and claws and a tail and super paralytic spit? I know what it's like, maybe more than anyone else either of us know. I fled to England the first chance I could to get away from it all…and I don't remember what I did, and nobody I was close to died. I think you were entitled to wanting to get further away from Beacon Hills than Starling City. Stop blaming yourself, you were sixteen years old."

Stiles sat in silence, his eyes fixed on Roy's face, as Roy forced himself to taking a few breaths to calm down. He knew at one point during his tirade his control had slipped and he'd almost flashed his eyes at Stiles, before he'd regained control, but it had been a surprise. He hadn't lost control so badly for years…even before Oliver had returned to Starling City. Even when he'd had the Mirakuru in his system he hadn't let his control of his wolf slip so much, although Roy was fairly sure that the drug had actually weakened his inner wolf, not strengthened it, but it wasn't like he could ask anyone about it. No-one in Starling City knew he was a werewolf except for Stiles.

"You're right," Stiles finally breathed, glancing down the bed in between them.

"I think that's the first time you've ever said that to me." Roy admitted, his tone surprised.

"Don't get used to it," Stiles advised, and Roy smirked in response.

"So…what's your plan now?"

"Stay in Starling City for a bit, catch up with Oliver and Sara…and maybe Sara's family, if she thinks they'll be okay with it. Then…when I've finally gotten up the courage, I might duck down to Beacon Hills. I know that it's risky, that I might lead the league back there, but realistically I'm pretty sure Ra's already knows my home town. I mean, he knows that I was on the Queen's Gambit with Sara and Oliver, so it would only take a very quick Google search for him to find a newspaper article with my name and my home town in it."

"If you want I could go back with you if you want…hold your hand and provide moral comfort." Roy offered, belatedly asking himself why on earth he was offering to go back to Beacon Hills with Stiles Stilinski of all people.

Stiles didn't say anything and only shrugged in response.

"At the least," Roy reasoned, "it might give one of us a chance of surviving. Lydia can only kill one of us at a time. While she's killing one of us the other could be running away praying that she won't find us."

The comment made Stiles laugh, and then yawn. Roy looked at his watch and was amazed at how late it had gotten. The hours had flown by as he and Stiles had talked, and it was now the early hours of the morning.

"Sorry," Stiles apologized, "I'm still a little jet lagged. I was up at 5 this morning."

"You need to get some sleep..." Roy ordered, "Now, where am I going to sleep? Not on the bed with you, that's for sure."

"Do you think you can fit on the couch?" Stiles asked, eyeing the flea bitten couch tucked against the wall. Roy got to his feet and walked over to it, sniffing slightly. It didn't smell too bad, and there wasn't anything alive living in it, despite its appearance.

"Yeah, it'll be fine…I'll have to keep getting up anyway to do concussion checks on you anyway."

"I thought we'd established I wasn't concussed," Stiles frowned.

"Oliver ordered me to look after you, I'm not going to leave you alone just because you think you're fine and we've spent hours talking," Roy gritted his teeth.

Stiles tilted his head slightly, in a way that reminded Roy of Scott, "You really do think of Oliver as your Alpha?"

"I do," Roy nodded, "He might not be a wolf, but he's an alpha in every other sense of the word."

"I can understand that," Stiles nodded as Roy turned to go and use the bathroom. When Roy returned Stiles walked past him, a pair of shorts in hand that he was obviously going to get changed into. Roy didn't have a change of clothes with him, but he didn't suppose that mattered. They'd been clean on that day, and he could call into his home on his way back to the Foundry and get changed and have a shower in the morning.

Stiles had gotten out the spare blankets, although they were stained and musty smelling, as well as the spare pillow off the bed Stiles was going to be using. Roy busied himself with making up a bed while Stiles was in the bathroom, and by the time Stiles came out of the bathroom Roy had stripped down to his boxers and had lain down in his bed for the night.

"You look cozy," Stiles observed with a small smirk.

"I've slept in worse," Roy shrugged. It was true that the couch was a little short for his height, but he'd slept in worse places, namely on the streets in the glades, so he wasn't going to complain.

Roy rolled over so he could face Stiles, and froze, catching sight of Stiles' bare chest and arms. Stiles had just as many scars as Oliver and Sara had, scattered across his pale skin, but Roy had expected that.

What he hadn't been anticipating was the tattoos that Stiles now carried, black marks on his skin that were a stark contrast to Stiles' otherwise pale completion. Roy had been told a story by Scott about Stiles the day Scott his tattoo done. The then sixteen year old Stiles had fainted, but now he had several tattoos, on his arms, his shoulders, and even Roy could see the top of two poking out the top of Stiles' shorts.

"What?' Stiles asked, and Roy blinked, realizing that he'd been caught staring.

"Nice tats," he settled for saying, "You never struck me as the type."

"Yeah…but people change. Remembering who I was before everything turned to hell became more important than staying away from needles." Stiles shrugged as he turned the lights off and climbed into bed.

"Have a good sleep, Stilinski," Roy said, although he privately doubted it. Stiles would have thought too much about Beacon Hills today to avoid having nightmares about something. Even Roy, his own experiences of their shared home town more distant and probably less terrifying, would struggle to have a restful sleep after seeing Stiles, the memories of his past that he'd repressed for so long now coming back to light.

At least they knew each other's past well enough to know not to question what caused them to wake up screaming during the night.