Stiles shifted in his clothes uncertainly as he followed Sara down the corridor that lead towards her sister Laurel's apartment. After seven long years it felt strange to be wearing civilian clothing and not combat gear, and Stiles couldn't help but tug slightly at the material.

The jeans and shirt he was wearing were both a little too big for him, having been loaned to him by Jackson, and the hoodie he wore over the top was even bigger. Stiles had checked his reflection before he and Sara had left, and in his opinion he looked ridiculous, the overly large clothes making him look younger and scrawnier than he actually was. Still, considering who he was going to be meeting that night, looking young and scrawny possibly was going to be a good thing.

"Are you ready for this?" Sara asked as she stopped outside Laurel's apartment door. Stiles swallowed thickly.

"No," he admitted.

"Hey…they were happy to see me again…eventually, and it's not like you betrayed them like I betrayed Laurel with Oliver."

"I still ran away though," Stiles pointed out, "Your mom and dad were supposed to look after me, and I skipped town…skipped the country on them. At least you were an adult."

Sara snorted and knocked on the door, both of them able to hear the sound of movement within the apartment, before the door was unlocked from the inside, and pulled open as far as the security chain would allow. Stiles positioned himself so he was out of Laurel's line of sight, although he heard her undoing the chain and knew that the door would soon be fully open.

Laurel Lance hadn't changed much in the seven years that had passed. Sure, she looked a little older, and a little more care worn than Stiles remembered, but not so much that he didn't recognize her the moment he laid eyes on her. Laurel, however, was occupied with greeting Sara, so she didn't notice Stiles, giving him a chance to glance into the room beyond the door. Laurel's apartment was bright and clean looking, and Stiles noted that she seemed to be doing very well for herself.

"Sara, who is your friend?" Laurel asked politely, offering Stiles her hand to shake. Stiles couldn't help but smile as he shook his head, allowing the hood to drop from his head, revealing his identity. Yes, it was overly dramatic, but he hadn't been able to help himself.

"Hi Laurel," he greeted with a shy smile, "um, Sara invited me to your family dinner…I hope that's ok?"

"OK?" Laurel choked out, looking from Stiles, to Sara, and back at Stiles in shock, "Oh my God, Stiles come here," Laurel gripped Stiles' hand and pulled him forward, closer to her, before she embraced him in a tight hug. Stiles stiffened at the initial contact, before he relaxed into it. Laurel had always mothered him, ever since he could remember, and there was something oddly reassuring about being hugged by her…Something akin to how he used to feel when his mother used to hug him.

It didn't take long for Stiles' chest to start to feel tight, his anxiety beginning to build again as his body and mind both struggled to get used to being so close to someone. Within the league Stiles had been very careful about who he let close to him…he'd learned from his first few weeks with the assassins when a number of the older members had sought to take advantage of him. They hadn't, but that was more because of the intervention of Ra's or Nyssa than anything on Stiles' behalf. The memories of being held down though, his assailants hot breath against his bare skin, sent a shudder up Stiles' spine, and he pulled back, away from Laurel's arms. Laurel immediately released her hold, perhaps knowing enough about what both Oliver and Sara had been through since boarding the Queen's Gambit to guess that Stiles would have been through his fair share of bad situations.

"I can't believe you're here…does your dad know you're here?"

"Starling City is his first stop," Sara supplied helpfully when Stiles swallowed and ducked his gaze, avoiding looking up at Laurel, the ball of guilt in his stomach growing a little at the thought of his dad and how Stiles hadn't gone to him first and eased his dad's grief at least.

"Does our dad know?"

"No, he'll find out tonight…where is he anyway? I thought we were running late." Sara replied, crossing the threshold into Laurel's apartment. Laurel and Stiles followed her inside, and Laurel closed the front door, locking it securely.

"He called…he got held up at the police headquarters…he should be on his way now though. Do you guys want anything to drink?"

"I'll just have a glass of water," Sara decided, and Stiles nodded in agreement, the older woman having warned him of Laurel's past drinking problems. It had brought up painful memories of his dad in the months and years following his mother's death, and of Stiles' fears that his dad would regress because of Stiles' assumed fate. Still, Stiles had been a little surprised to hear about Laurel having those sorts of issued. When he'd been growing up she'd always seemed to be the responsible one, the one who would never put a toe out of line and did what she was asked. Still, people and circumstances changed, and even knowing only the little bit of the story he did, Stiles didn't blame her for loosing herself in the bottom of a bottle.

While Laurel was getting his and Sara's drinks, Stiles looked around Laurel's apartment.

"I like your apartment, it's nice. Sara tells me that you work in the DA's office?" he asked once Laurel returned from the kitchen.

"Yeah…it isn't what I set out to do, why I studied law in the first place…but I'm really enjoying it."

"That's good," Stiles nodded, glad that Laurel, at least, had gotten the chance to live a normal life. He, Oliver and Sara had had that option taken from them when the Queen's gambit went down. It was good to see that Laurel had made a name for herself, and seemed to be doing quite well. She looked happy too, and healthy.

"I can't believe you're alive," Laurel exclaimed softly as she, Sara and Stiles sat in Laurel's living area, Stiles and Laurel on the couch, with Sara sitting in a chair.

"I'm kind or surprised I made it this long too, don't worry, you're not the only one," Stiles offered with a wry smile and a shrug.

"Where have you been, though? Why didn't anyone say anything?"

Both Stiles and Sara knew that by 'anyone,' Laurel meant Oliver and Sara, but it was Stiles who spoke up, "In his defense, Oliver didn't know I was alive until I rocked up back in town. Yeah, I originally ended up on the island with him, but one day we got separated and I…ended up with Sara."

"The league," Laurel whispered, her eyes round with horror.

Stiles nodded, "As for Sara not saying anything…you can't blame her. I'm not a kid anymore. I haven't been for a long time…since before I even got on that damned boat. I don't need to be protected. I can look after myself."

Laurel opened her mouth to say something in reply, but before she could make a sound there was a knocking on the door. Sara, Laurel and Stiles all froze.

"That'll be dad," Laurel told them.

Stiles fidgeted slightly, "I don't know if I'm ready for this, I might just go out the…" Stiles was already moving to towards the window, but Sara beat him to it, blocking his path.

"Stiles…you've got to stop running from this. He gets it, he does," Sara reasoned as Laurel watched on, torn between watching Sara and Laurel, and going to answer the door for her father.

Stiles shook his head, "I'm not running because of what happened to us,"

"Then why are you running?" Sara asked, noting that Stiles could have denied running at all, but he hadn't.

"Because I don't know if I can face my dad, and if I see your dad, spend the evening with him, then it will be a lot harder to continue keeping my dad in the dark about me being alive," Stiles replied, his tone sharp.

"And why would your dad knowing the truth be a bad thing. When Sara came back we were so happy. Yes, it was hard at times, but I'm so glad that Sara chose to come back," Laurel interjected.

Stiles shook his head, "You guys don't get it. Maybe my dad…my friends…maybe they're better off thinking I'm dead. They have their own things to deal with, they don't need me bringing back more crap, risking exposing them to the League."

"Stiles…you've always been a good judge of character. If…If they were any sort of good friend, like the friend's I'm sure you would have, then they wouldn't care. They would be happy to know that you're alive." Laurel told him as she walked towards the door. Stiles sighed and slumped back onto Laurel's couch, and Sara followed her sister towards the door, standing a few feet behind her as Laurel unlocked the door and let her father into the apartment.

"Everything ok?" he asked his daughters. Laurel smiled, and hugged him, making Lance's eyes widen in surprise.

"Ok, what was that for?' he asked, "We saw each other earlier today.

"We've got a guest tonight," Sara replied, glancing towards the couch, Stiles peered over the back of the couch that the man who, in some ways, had become like his second dad when he'd been younger. The moment Lance's eyes fell on Stiles, he let out a soft gasp.

"Did any of you actually die on that damned boat?" He asked as Laurel pulled away from him, freeing him up to go to Stiles. Sara and Laurel both watched as their father approached Stiles, in some ways the son he'd never had. They both noticed how Stiles moved back slightly, and Lance immediately slowed down. It was obvious that he'd been planning to hug stiles tightly, but Lance had seen Stiles move back a little, cautiously, and had changed his mind, instead clasping Stiles' shoulder firmly.

"Good to see you alive kid, you had a lot of us very sad when the news broke. Does your dad know you're alive?"

"No Mr. Lance," Stiles replied ducking his head guiltily, "I…wanted to scope things out a bit before I took the risk of heading down to Beacon Hills."

Stiles could feel the penetrating look Quentin Lance gave him, before the man in question turned his gaze on Sara. Stiles could almost feel the older man mentally putting the pieces together, matching up Stiles' return, less than a year after Sara returned in a similar manner.

"He…he was with you…he's part of…"

"The league, yeah, I am," Stiles admitted, "Don't be angry at Sara for not telling you about me. It wasn't her story to tell. I…I don't think I was ready to come back until now."

Lance sighed and rubbed his hand wearily over his face, "When Sara came back I should have known that something like this would happen."

"Have you told my dad about Sara being alive?" Stiles asked.

Lance shook his head, "no…I haven't spoken to your old man in awhile…not since just after the wedding. Loosing you…it hit him hard…harder than even your mom's death. When Sara came back I couldn't tell him that my kid had made it back when his hadn't. Seeing Oliver Queen's face spread on the front of every newspaper in the country would have been bad enough for him to see."

Stiles nodded in acceptance, "Thank you," he told Quentin, "For…for keeping him out of this. I…I've already put him through too much. It's better that he think that I died when the Queen's Gambit went down."

"Yeah, well, trust me when I say that, as a father, and particularly one who has been in this situation I think that you're wrong about that. I spent a long time grieving Sara, only to find out that she was still alive," Quentin smiled as he looked lovingly over at Sara, "and that was one of the best days of my life. You're old enough to make your own choice, Stiles, and I'm not going to force you into doing anything…it's your choice, but believe me…I think your dad deserves to know the truth."

"I…I'll think about it," Stiles acknowledged. As much as he was arguing the point, it was getting harder and harder to maintain his viewpoint. With every passing hour his resolve to stay away from Beacon Hills was wavering, his desire to see his father and the pack once again growing with time. He couldn't deny that he missed everyone he had left behind in Beacon Hills, even after so many years away. Stiles knew that there was the risk of the League following him back to Beacon Hills, but Stiles wasn't sure how much longer he could fight his desire to go back to the town where he'd been born and grown up.

As far as he knew the league had never really shown any interest in the supernatural. Yes, Nyssa had had some minor dealings with supernatural creatures in the past, and Ra's and the other senior members probably had too, but no-one within the league was a supernatural creature, as far as Stiles had been able to tell, and Stiles was fairly certain Ra's would have said something to him if he'd any intention of doing something about the pack.

Stiles knew that Ra's was aware of his past involving the supernatural, the name he'd been given within the league told him that much, although how much exactly the leader of the league knew remained a mystery. He knew that Stiles had once been affiliated with werewolves, and that Stiles had once been possessed by a Nogitsune, and that Stiles may well be the only person to have ever done so and lived to tell the tale…Stiles knew that simply because of the prophecy that Ra's believed was about him, but how much past that the league was aware of Stiles wasn't exactly certain of.

Considering the fact that Ra's wanted Stiles as an ally, for whatever reason, Stiles doubted that Ra's would go after anyone Stiles was close to in Beacon Hills, although he, realistically, knew that his own desire to return to his home town was making him biased towards thinking that way. Nobody knew the plans of the leader of the League of Assassins other than the man in charge himself, and to try and guess his thought process was a foolish and risky endeavor. Stiles was well aware of this fact…he'd seen others within the league with aspirations of becoming it's leader being outwitted by Ra's time and time again in the few short years he'd stayed with them.

"Stiles…you with us?" Sara's voice cut through Stiles' thoughts, and he blinked, mentally dragging himself back into the present, forcing thoughts about returning to Beacon Hills and the potential repercussions of that to the back of his mind.

"Yep," Stiles replied, smiling reassuringly at Sara, although it was obvious that Quentin Lance wasn't convinced, his eyes still filled with concern as he watched as Stiles followed Sara and Laurel to the dining table.

"I'm sorry." Quentin apologized as he joined his daughters and Stiles at the table, "For pushing. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of hell you've been through, and…and the league are scary as hell, I've seen them in action. I get it if you don't want them anywhere near your dad and your friends. You just do…do what you think is right."

"Thanks, Mr. Lance," Stiles nodded in appreciation, "You've given me something to think about."

Quentin smiled and reached out, telecasting his moves carefully so not to catch Stiles unaware. Stiles was ready for it when the older man ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Your hair is a lot longer than it used to be." Quentin observed with a chuckle, and Laurel and Sara both laughed.

Stiles nodded in agreement, "Trust me, it's shorter than it was when I first joined up with the league," he told them, and Sara giggled at the memory of Stiles after over a year on the island. As strange as it had been to see Oliver with long hair, it hadn't suited Stiles at all.

Stiles too was reflecting on the 'washed up on a not so deserted island' look he, Oliver and Slade had carried, although Slade had managed to pull it off far better than Oliver and Stiles. Cutting his long hair and shaving the facial hair he'd managed to spout, had been one of the best parts about getting off the island.

The four of them ate their meal, with Stiles being surprised at how easy it was to fall into conversation with the Lances. He listened as Laurel told him about what her mother had been up to since the Queen's Gambit went down, and while Quentin talked about what Laurel and Himself had been up to over the last few years, and about some of his less sensitive police stories, knowing that, before everything had gone to hell, Stiles had once hoped to study criminology and join law enforcement in some regard.

It had been interesting to learn what they had been up to, although it hurt that both Laurel and her father had suffered so much, first with Sara's disappearance, and then with the breakup of Quentin and Dinah's marriage, and then, years later, Oliver's reappearance and the death of Tommy, Laurel's boyfriend, in the Glades earthquake.

Although Stiles knew, realistically, that things would have still been happening in Beacon Hills and Starling City while he was on the island and, later, at Nanda Parbat, the thought of nothing bad happening to those he'd left behind had been one of the few things that had kept him sane over the last few years. He was glad that he knew that his dad was alive, and happily married to Melissa, but his stomach clenched at the idea of what might have happened to the rest of the pack since he left town. He wasn't sure what he would do if he learned that something bad had happened to Scott, Lydia, Derek or one of the others.

Okay…it was probably foolish to think that nothing bad had happened, Stiles reasoned with himself…it was Beacon Hills after all…but, maybe, he could narrow it down. If the rest of the pack had endured the last years without anyone dying, any serious or long lasting injuries, loosing of loved ones, or mental trauma, Stiles would be happy…inwardly surprised, but happy. If any of those things had happened…Stiles wasn't so sure he'd ever be able to forgive himself. He would probably live out the rest of his life blaming himself for what happened…for not being there to help prevent it himself, and for Allison, Aidan, and the other people who had died because of the nogitsune not being there to help either. Who knew what any of those people would have gone on to do if they hadn't been killed because of Stiles and his weakness? Stiles could be responsible for the death of someone who would go on to find the cure for cancer, or something like that.

"Stiles…you ok?" Laurel's soft voice cut through his thoughts, and Stiles blinked, realizing he had spaced out, and now had Sara, Quentin and laurel all staring at him in concern.

"Er, yeah, I'm fine," he told them, although he knew that it wasn't a very convincing lie. He didn't look up at the Lances though, knowing what their faces would look like at that precise moment, the pity and concern, the fear and the sadness. All three of the Lance family present knew Stiles well…since he was a baby. In Stiles' baby album there were even photos of Laurel and Sara holding him.

Stiles knew that he wasn't the same kid that they had known. Yes, Sara knew what he'd been through…she'd gone through much the same ordeal, but Stiles knew that, over the course of the evening, he'd made it clear how deeply he'd been impacted by what he'd been through since the last time he'd seen Quentin and Laurel. He hated how weak it made him look, especially considering Sara was relatively normal in comparison.

"Look, I probably should go. You guys had a nice family dinner planned, and I gate crashed it. It's been nice seeing you all again…I…I've really enjoyed it, but I've gotta go now." Stiles excused himself, rising to his feet.

"Stiles, It's ok," Laurel offered. Stiles forced himself to look at Laurel in the eye, before he looked over at Quentin.

"No…it's really not. I'll...I'll think about what you've said about going to see my dad…about going back to Beacon Hills, but…But I need some time to think."

Stiles backed away before he turned and all but ran from Laurel's apartment. He heard Sara, Quentin and Laurel trying to call him back, but he ignored their voices, and none of them pursued him, although Stiles was fairly certain that Sara had told her father and sister not to try and chase him down.

Stiles had spoken the truth when he'd said he needed time to think…and he'd found that over the years, the best way to do that was for him to be alone…just like he had been for such a long time.