Chapter Sixteen:

"Stiles."

"Go away dad." Stiles groaned from under his pillow, his voice muffled and distorted, still whiny though, and a tad bit rough from all the screaming he'd done the previous night- but he was sure that the point still carried through. He didn't want to be spoken to. He didn't want to move, he didn't want to leave his bed.

The door to his room cracked open just a little, maybe an inch and his dad looked through, he was sure his room looked like a mess. He'd absolutely torn through it, in some kind of grief or rage or just something. Either way, things were thrown, ripped and discarded, but none of it had made him feel any better.

"Stiles you haven't left your room all day. Can you please just tell me what's wrong?" His father asked- sounding nervous and ridden with fatherly concern.

The man had been constantly travelling upstairs and checking on him, which was probably a natural thing to do. Stiles did spend a lot of time in his room-as any teen would do, but he never really spent it in the dark, under the covers, not eating anything and never coming out. Well…at least not since he'd gotten past his mother issues.

"Nothing's wrong." Stiles huffed, hiding deeper under the covers as the sheriff opened the door completely- stepping into the room. Stiles couldn't handle scrutiny right now, he couldn't handle conversation.

"Stiles, something is obviously wrong…you don't have to say what it is. But can you at least let me know you're okay?" The sheriff moved to sit on the corner of the mattress, placing a hand over one of Stiles' knees.

Stiles sighed long and resigned. He peaked one eye out from under his pillow, "I'll get over it okay? Just let me mope. I'll be fine Dad, seriously, it's just one of those things that takes a few days listening to overly emotional music and sleeping for hours on end. I'll be good soon, promise."

"Stiles." The Sheriff tried, sounding casually disapproving but also a tad worried; as any parent would if their child refused to leave their bed all day without breaks for eating.

"Dad, Seriously, I just want to be left alone okay? I'll be fine." Stiles grumbled- he felt like shit saying it, but there was no other way to get his father off of his back. He couldn't tell his dad about this. He just- he couldn't.

There came a huff/grumbling sound of typical parental disapproval, but also acknowledgement and his father left with a single "Love you kiddo." Closing the door behind him and leaving Stiles alone once again.

Left in the darkness once again, Stiles burrowed under the covers and tried desperately not to think about…to think about, well…what he'd been thinking about since the previous night.

Toby.

It was his fault really. He was so desperate for someone to actually like him- that he just, ignored all the signs? Believed that someone did? Fell in love to quickly?

It hurt. Being betrayed like that- being used. And not only that! Being used to get to werewolves- a lifestyle and friendship group he'd never actually had a say in- that he'd cursed God for bringing him into…It was humiliating. Demeaning.

He just- It's not like Toby was even dangerous to Scott or the others…but he could have been. He could have been someone horrible and dangerous like Deucalion or Jennifer, and he would have led him right to the wolves…right to his friends. God, how stupid was he? How recklessly, stupidly, naïve- was he; to actually think someone like that, someone so nice and good-looking and older, was genuinely interested?

He honestly didn't know who he hated more in that moment…himself- or Toby.

Scott had called Stiles seven times already, seven. Now…granted it was a fact that Stiles usually slept in on a Sunday-it was 1:30 in the freaking afternoon and they had plans dammit! So why wasn't he answering his phone?

Ugh. Stiles had texted Scott the day before…telling him all about how he was on this date with the 'Hot Vampire guy' and that was all well and fine, and Scott was really happy for him, finally getting some and all. But they had a scheduled video-game marathon, and if Stiles had- God forbid Scott was going to have to bleach his brain thinking about it- if Stiles had had…sex- with this vampire, and hadn't bothered to get his ass up the next morning. Oh there would be consequences!

Scott McCall was not one to miss out on video games and nacho plate pig-outs! No matter how late Stiles may have stayed up….doing things. Ugh, this was his bro- it physically hurt to think about.

So it was decided. If the brat wasn't going to answer his phone- then Scott was going to ride his dirt-bike over and demand the boy get his lazy ass out of bed for their traditional Sunday Fun-day. No excuses.

It's freezing when Scott zooms into the Stilinski driveway- hopping off of his bike and running up to the door to escape the chill. He could see the Sheriff's cruiser parked in the drive next to the jeep, which was good. The man was in need of a day off of work for once.

Scott let himself in, not bothering to knock. He and Stiles had developed a certain level of trust since they were in third-grade. Use each other's houses, use each other's fridges, and use each other as an excuse. That's the way things always worked. Their trust had even developed so strong that they'd (without their parents' knowledge) developed keys of one another's front doors…though technically Stiles had done it first without asking.

"Hey Mr Stilinski, is Stiles home?" Scott asked as he closed the door behind him- blocking the chill. He moved straight to the kitchen which was in his direct line of sight. There he saw the Sheriff sitting at the round table doing paperwork and drinking a steamy mug of coffee. Huh. He may be at home, but the office obviously still hadn't left him yet. Stiles had told him all about the extra work he and his dad had taken on because of the bank. It was…it was just, sad to know how hard Mr Stilinski had to work.

The Sheriff looked up from his work, his face tired and worn, he sighed. "Yeah Scott, he's up in his room…just, he's having a bad day- he won't tell me why. Be careful with him." The Sheriff warned.

Scott frowned and nodded seriously, knowing that Stiles Stilinski didn't just have bad days. Yeah he got sad, but eventually he just got to excited to focus much on it…The only times he'd ever had a bad day were in extreme circumstances.

"I'll be careful." Scott assured, placing a reassuring smile onto his face.

"Mm, good. Maybe your company might actually make him feel better. Who knows?" the Sheriff mused, shrugging. He then nodded his head sideways in a general signal of 'go ahead and try', basically dismissing him.

With a mumbled good-bye behind his shoulder, Scott stormed off and up the stairs, wondering what was wrong with his bestie. Originally he'd come there in a light, slightly annoyed mood- just thinking Stiles had slept in pretty late, or forgotten about him after his date the previous night. However…after hearing the Sheriff's words, and looking back on the fact that Stiles never shrugged him off for Fun-day Sunday, Scott was becoming a tad bit concerned, wondering about all the different scenarios that could have possibly made his best friend upset on such a monumental day.

When Scott got to Stiles door- he hesitated.

Ever since becoming a werewolf, his sense of smell had been completely different…especially around people. The longer he was a wolf, the more and more he learnt- the more he found out that people emitted emotions- and if those emotions were strong enough, they could smell.

Stiles room, even from the outside when the door was closed, smelt like Allison had the time Allison had broken up with him, the time Lydia had in the garage when she thought Jackson was dead, Derek, when he'd learnt about Jenifer's betrayal.

Grief. Loss. Sadness. Anger.

But why were they coming from Stiles' room? A room that usually smelled of teenager, medication and adrenalin?

"Stiles?" Scott asked, knocking on the door and keeping his voice just loud enough to hear.

From the inside he could hear a pickup in heartbeat and a stutter in breathing. Stiles had heard him, but was obviously choosing to ignore him.

"I'm coming in, okay bud?" Scott asked, and hearing no response he opened the door to the room- stepping inside.

Inside was so much worse than just smell. It…it looked like a bomb had gone off or something. Clothes, books, sports equipment and childish toys were strewn all across the room- the ceiling fan was even sporting a bright red pair of novelty Christmas boxers? The desk was upside down, its accompanying wheelie chair tipped over on its side- the shades to Stiles' window were twisted and bent…and a stuffed teddy bear (that wasn't really full of stuffing anymore since it now seemed to be torn apart) was hanging from the ceiling by a makeshift noose made out of a series of decorative ties.

The place looked extremely creepy and smelt like sadness and pain.

"Stiles?" Scott asked, stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind him. The room had an air of 'no' to it that Scott just couldn't explain. Even without the mess…the darkness and the horrible intoxicating emotions swirling around were enough to make the entire atmosphere one to be weary of.

Still, he had to figure out why it was like this in the first place, had to figure out why Stiles was acting like this.

Scott could see the huddled figure on the bed- hiding under the covers in the foetal position and doing his it's best to pretend it was asleep. Stiles.

"Stiles I can hear your heart rate. I know you're awake." Scott commented as softly as he could, tiptoeing around the room's debris and moving over to stand by bed where Stiles was hiding.

"Mmmphh." Stiles moaned into his pillow, not moving much except to snuggle deeper.

"Stiles are you okay?" Scott asked, trying to make his voice sound strong- but it just broke through wavering and scared instead.

He moved, pushing the heap that was Stiles and lounging himself onto the mattress as well, leaning his back against the headboard and his side against the lump that was his best friend.

"Stiles?" Scott asked patting Stiles' shoulder to rouse him out from hiding.

The bed smelt weird…and not just with the mixed sad emotions…something else was off.

"Whaddaya want Scott?" Stiles whined, poking his head out slightly from the covers.

His eyes were both sunken and red-rimmed, like he's spent all night not sleeping, but crying instead. His hair was a mess sticking up like a porcupine's would.

"I want to know what's made you so upset." Scott answered truthfully- and immediately saw a wave of panic flash over his friend's face.

"Please Stiles- I just. It smells like…it smells so sad and angryin here and I just can't- I'm worried." Scott tried to express, looking down at his friend, feeling still slightly disturbed at the haggardness of Stiles' features.

Stiles sighed, rolling off of his stomach and moving to scoot up a bit, "Fine." He said when he came to a rest beside Scott, "But my father hears none of this. Understood?" his voice sounded rough and haggard- a sound Scott only knew came from screaming into your pillow for hours on end. He'd done it a fair few times when he still lived with his father.

Scott nodded, waiting for an explanation.

Stiles took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter, he looked tired and begrudging, but also scared- like telling Scott whatever it was, was going to be the worst thing in earth or something.

"So you remember how I kept telling you about. About Hot vampire guy?" Stiles asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. He was looking down at his hands, avoiding eye contact and fiddling.

"Yeah." Scott voiced an affirmation.

"Well I mean- I texted you heaps yesterday- a-about the date we were going on. And we…we went on it and stuff."

Stiles was frowning, like he couldn't get the words out- like he didn't want to.

"It's okay buddy, I'm right here." Scott tried to voice some encouragement…but didn't really know what encouragement he could give to his friend- not when he had no idea what the problem actually was.

"I-I really liked him-" liked? "- but then he- he-" Stiles choked, shaking his head a little, "Scott it was all a lie." He said his voice full of anger- not sadness.

"I-what do you mean?" Scott asked at the same time as pulling his friend into a hug.

He couldn't help it- even in a situation like this- but something about the smell of Stiles' bed- it was off, it distracted him.

"He- his family are like some weird vampire cops or some shit. Th-they sent him here to check and see…to check and see if the Alphas were all good and dandy or something. I-I was just some tool he used to gather information." Scott's heart sank along with Stiles' words.

"I-I thought someone finally liked me! I-I'm such and idiot!" Stiles declared and Scott could both hear and smell that the boy had started to cry.

He gripped his best friend up in a tighter hug, both for Stiles' benefit and for his own… Scott actually felt mildly sick that someone had made his best friend feel this way.

"It's okay Stiles." Scott said- really that was the only thing he could say.

"No! It's not! He wasn't trying to hurt you guys…but what-what if he was? What if T-toby was like Jennifer and wanted to hurt people, and I-just, what if I-" Stiles cut himself off, curling up into Scott and shaking like a leaf, his heartbeat high and jittery.

They stayed there for a moment- just breathing and hugging it out.

Scott could still smell that strange smell.

Stiles was breathing in haggardly, but the hugging seemed to calm him down after a while and eventually his heartbeat slowed down to a more-normal rate.

Then finally, the smell was starting to get to Scott- and he'd actually gotten a pretty good clue on what it was.

"Stiles?" he asked, "Did- Did Toby…touch you?" he knew it sounded insensitive- but the bed reeked of 'not-human male' and arousal. Something had gone down, and as a protective best friend he had to know what.

Stiles looked down shamefully, tears clouding his eyes and fists shaking.

"I-yeah. Before. Before he told me about what he was doing here. Before he told me that he was using me- we- I still thought he liked me…and we, we made-out a bit." Stiles looked up defensively, "I mean- I was still under the impression that this was just 'Toby the guy I'm on a date with' not 'Toby the traitor'."

Scott sat shocked for a moment, then felt a blinding rage take hold of him and knew that his eyes were glowing a slight bit red.

"He touched you? He used you? Under false pretences? My best friend? He did that? To my BEST FRIEND?" Scott was up and off the bed- he felt the wolf howling and clawing at his ribs, his brain, his heart aching to breach free and find this…this Toby and gut him.

"Whoa, Scott calm down!" Stiles jumped up with him too, holding onto his elbows and looking frightened.

"I'm gonna kill him." Scott growled under his breath.

Stiles chuckled humourlessly, "Truth be told Scotty- I don't actually think you're capable of killing anyone, no matter how much you want to. Besides what Toby did was fully consensual…and may have been under false pretences. But that's not what I'm upset about. I'm more upset at how easily fell into that lie." Stiles led him over to the bed, they sat down, their legs dangling over the side.

"I'm sorry that this happened." Scott said truthfully- looking over at his friend and feeling the waves of protectiveness wash over him. No-one hurt Stiles. Stiles was…Stiles. You just don't hurt him. Not ever. And if you do you got a Scott McCall to deal with.

"Me too Scotty." Stiles sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Now can we please talk about something else…like, how was your Allison-meets-father date? Did anyone get mortally wounded?" Stiles asked, changing the topic.

Oh God, well at least he had some horrific and ugly stories to get Stiles mind off of things.

"Stiles you have no idea how many times one man can be slapped in an evening." Scott chuckled- looking over at his best friend.

Stiles snorted, "Take it Allison didn't like Papa McCall then?"

"Nope. Not even a little."

They both laughed.