A/N: I've had this posted on AO3 and Wattpad for a few months now, but I decided to post it here as well. :)
This is a pretty dark fic, so read at your own risk! The trigger warnings are as follows: Rape/non-con, self-harm, dark thoughts, murder (though accidental), canon-typical violence, victim-blaming, self-victim-blaming, and EDNOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified) If you think I've missed anything please leave a comment and let me know!
Just a heads up, I feel like the writing gets better around chapter four, as that's when I stopped copying from the original work I made a few years back.
Beta'd by the lovely Hayley 757 over on AO3!
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It was a warm Friday afternoon. School had just let out and the pack had all made their way to Derek's loft for their weekly meeting. The discussion for today was the pixies (yes, fucking pixies) which had been terrorizing the pack for about the same amount of time that Stiles had been acting strange, which started about a week ago.
Derek frowned as he thought about Stiles' peculiar behaviour. Stiles hadn't shown up to the loft for the past few days, and according to the pack members who were in school he hadn't been going to his classes either. Scott had gone to his house a few times and was told by the sheriff that Stiles was sick with the flu.
But there was something off about the whole situation. Whenever Scott went over, he said he couldn't detect any scent of illness, as adamant as the sheriff had been about it.
When Stiles finally went back to school, nearly the whole pack had texted Derek to tell him that Stiles was fine, but that he clearly hadn't gotten over the flu yet. Derek had relaxed slightly, but that brief moment of ease was quickly replaced with a tight feeling in his gut when he eventually laid eyes on Stiles himself.
The boy had dark bags drooping under his eyes, and his usual pale skin looked almost translucent in the sunlight beaming through the curtains of the loft's large window. He held himself in a strange way, hunched over as if attempting to appear small.
The scent of pain and peroxide made itself known as he walked in, wafting through the air and attacking the wolves' noses in an instant. Everyone glanced over to Stiles when he came in. He smelled so off from his usual calm and energetic scent that it was almost hard to recognize it at all.
"Hey, Stiles," Derek greeted, trying to keep his concern under wraps. Stiles glanced over at him nervously, nodding as he sat down. He flinched when Derek walked over from the wall he'd been leaning against to take the empty seat next to him. His whole body seemed to tense in alertness, as if he was waiting for Derek to attack him.
Derek frowned as he took in Stiles' tense posture, wondering why Stiles was so tightly wound. The days of Derek attacking him out of the blue were long over, so why was he acting like this all of a sudden?
Derek watched as Stiles shifted in his seat nervously and wrapped his arms around himself. The scent of pain became slightly stronger due to the way Stiles was holding himself, and Derek's concern only grew. What the hell was going on?
"Hi, Derek," Stiles replied, eyes glued to the floor as if in submission. Derek went to speak, but that was when Stiles turned to him. Derek paused at the look in his amber eyes. They were always so full of mirth, usually sparking with energy.
Today they looked dull and lifeless, heavy-lidded and drooping. Derek wanted to ask if he was alright, but when he opened his mouth Stiles put up a hand, a small, obviously fake smile on his face. "Before you ask why I 'look like shit,' as Scott so eloquently put it, I had the flu," Stiles said, giving Scott an unimpressed look when he finished.
Scott adopted a goofy grin and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Like I said, no offense…" Scott grimaced.
Derek grimaced as well. Stiles, by the looks of it, already had enough on his plate. He didn't need his best friend adding to it by telling him he 'looked like shit.' Derek thought about how Stiles had been barely eating, how the dark bags under his eyes seemed to be a constant feature on his face for the past week and a half. He thought about the unexplained hollowness that marred his usually cheerful expression, how just now he'd noticed the usual spark in his eyes missing.
What really scared Derek was the fact that Stiles had been so eerily quiet about whatever it was that was bothering him. He was usually so open about his emotions. But not this… whatever it was. It was an ugly mess, that's for sure.
Whatever it was that was festering in his mind, it was clearly something big, or he wouldn't be so out of it all the time.
Derek glanced over to Stiles, who was sitting with his shoulders hunched inwards, eyes on the floor as he stared with a small frown twisting his lips downward.
Derek realized then that the pack had already begun the meeting. He'd been so lost in thought about Stiles that he hadn't even noticed.
"What I don't understand," Scott was saying when Derek focused back in on his surroundings, "Is why they speak a foreign language when they're from here?" And the whole room — minus Stiles, who wasn't paying attention — rolled their eyes.
"Really, Scott? That's what you're stuck on?" Lydia asked in exasperation as Scott glared at her.
"What? It's a valid question! Right, Stiles?" Scott questioned as he nudged the boy, who flinched away from the sudden contact.
He took his eyes off the floor and turned to Scott confusedly, an expression on his face Scott couldn't quite place. "W- What?" He looked around the room and then back to Scott, taking in the worried looks on everyone's features as Scott frowned at him.
Scott knew Stiles had been jumpy lately, that he flinched away from almost any and all physical contact, be it from Scott or anyone else. It was odd, to say the least, and it made Scott worry to no end.
Scott swallowed nervously, "I said my question was valid. Am I right?" Scott asked, giving him a weak smile and a wink full of false confidence.
"Uh-" Stiles faltered. "Yeah," He said lamely, giving a forced smile before going back to staring at the same spot he just had been. He was obviously lost in thought. Scott observed him for a second before he sighed dejectedly, turning back to the group.
"Okay, well, it is a valid question," He pouted as Lydia raised a perfectly pencilled eyebrow. Both at the exchange between Scott and Stiles and Scott's stupidity.
"Sure. Moving on," She said. "I think I know enough Latin to negotiate with them. You know, try to get them to leave peacefully," She could feel Jackson tense beside her on the couch and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, now what?" She groaned, annoyance clear in her tone. Jackson looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed, obviously not liking the idea.
"No way are you going out there by yourself to talk to those little bastards," He said. Lydia sighed and did a full one-eighty, giving him a gentle smile at his concern.
It was true that they'd been having some issues with their relationship as of late, so she was quicker to jump to anger with him. The same went for Jackson as well. But they were trying to work things out, it was just hard when there was a new monster trying to kill them what seemed to be every other week.
"I never said I'd go alone." She patted his knee and Jackson relaxed slightly, though he still looked a bit troubled with the concept of his girlfriend having a conversation with those little shits. The fact that she thought they could be civil enough to work anything out at all was concerning in itself.
"Okay, so there's one plan," Allison added from the chair next to where Scott sat on the couch with Derek and Stiles.
"Do we really think these annoying little pricks are going to leave peacefully?" Isaac asked, "I mean, we all saw how vicious they were the other day. What if they just attack us again?" He expressed, looking at Lydia, who was carefully curling a lock of her hair around her finger calmly.
"That's a good point," She said, "But after doing a bit of research, I've come to the realization that most pixies are peaceful creatures," Lydia explained as she unwrapped her finger and dropped her hand to her side.
The pack gave her incredulous looks, all remembering how things had gone down the other day in the preserve. 'Peaceful' was not a word any of them would use to describe the pixies. Crazy, vicious, and brutal all came to mind, but peaceful? Definitely not.
"I really think you should do a fact check with whatever research you've been doing. They're literally one of the most mischievous supernatural creatures out there! And have you forgotten about our little exchange with them the other day?" Erica all but shouted, causing Boyd to nearly choke on the water he was sipping.
Lydia gave her a condescending smile as she spoke, "Well, yes, it's true that they are mischievous, but what I meant was that when it comes to other supernaturals, unless they are being an active threat, they can usually settle fights, talk things out, stuff like that. They are fairly peaceful, the only reason they attacked you lot was because they thought you were there to attack them. It's the language barrier." She flipped her hair to the side. "Had Jackson not been such a baby and let me come with you last time, I would have easily understood them and we could have worked things out a lot sooner," She said matter-of-factly. Erica just continued frowning at her but had nothing to say.
"Stiles, do you have any information to add? You said you were going to do some research," Derek loudly spoke from next to the boy, trying to get his attention as the whole room turned to Stiles, who was still staring at the floor. "Stiles?" Derek said again, though there was still no response from the boy.
The smell of concern filled the room as people watched the exchange. Scott put his hand in front of Stiles' face and waved it up and down. Stiles flinched back violently from Scott's hand and raised his arms as if to protect himself from harm. His reaction had the entire pack sitting up in their seats in alarm as they took in the fleeting look of fear and terror that crossed his face. The scent of panic filled the room as Stiles took a moment to relax. His face quickly blanked of all emotion and he turned to his friend, eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at him in bewilderment.
"What?" Stiles asked, his voice monotone but still slightly shaky. The smell of embarrassment began to overpower the smell of panic as Scott searched his best friend's face for answers he wouldn't find.
Scott's face was pale as he hesitantly said, "Derek asked if you found anything else on the pixies." He fidgeted with his hands as he spoke, watching Stiles closely.
Stiles sighed and reached for the bag by his feet, picking it up and unzipping it to pull out stacks of neatly organized papers. He got up and walked over to the coffee table, hitting them against the surface to righten them before he handed the papers to Derek sheepishly. The smell of embarrassment mingled with pain and disinfectant hit Derek's nose hard.
"This is everything I could find." He sat back down, and none of the wolves missed the small but sharp intake of pained breath when he sat back down. If anyone wanted to say anything, they held it in. Derek was nearly at the point of asking about it regardless of the embarrassment it would cause the boy in front of the pack.
Believe it or not, Derek did, in fact, care about Stiles. He just didn't want the boy — or anyone really — to know. (though with werewolf senses that was practically impossible.)
The really fucked up thing about this situation was that Stiles was Derek's mate, but he had yet to tell anyone about it. He didn't want anyone to know, let alone Stiles himself. He knew the wolves must have been able to smell the arousal he felt when Stiles got a little too close, hear the uptick of his heart when Stiles smiled at him, or said something nice about him. And he knows for a fact that at least a few of them must have seen the way he stared at Stiles' beautiful, mole-speckled face.
Derek sighed, wishing Stiles felt the same way about him, but he knew that would never happen. Derek knew he was a good-looking guy, but not once had he ever had the pleasure of smelling anything remotely sexual coming from his mate, no matter how many times Derek 'accidentally' brushed his hand or leg against Stiles', lied his head against his shoulder when he 'fell asleep' during pack movie nights, or even when he hugged him close after they rescued him, Erica, and Boyd from Gerard.
Not even to mention the fact that Stiles was sixteen and Derek was twenty.
"Okay, well… thanks," Derek muttered as Stiles flashed that new smile of his in Derek's direction, the one that never seemed to reach his eyes.
"Everything's there, from dancing in the moonlight to the sound of crickets and frogs to luring travelers away from their path," Stiles said. "Though, I mean, now that it's the twenty-first century I'm sure that there can't be too many people just walking around in the forest. Especially here, what with all the murders and other crazy stuff that happens in this town, like the number of people who go missing or see weird things in the dead of night, you know, the stuff that has no explanation to the general public… But I mean, why even do anything as pointless as leading people away from the path in the middle of the night? Like, I get that they're supposed to be mischievous and all that, but it's a bit evil to do something like that just for the hell of it, don't you think?" Stiles finished with his finger tapping his chin.
Derek smiled fondly at him, "I'm glad to see you can still ramble like an idiot," He chuckled lightly.
Stiles turned to him and frowned. "What do you mean, 'still'?" He asked, and it was Derek's turn to frown.
"Well, you've just been so down lately…" Derek cleared his throat nervously. "I mean, it's not like I really care or anything, why would I? But we've all noticed," Derek said, not caring that the wolves would be able to hear the lie in his words through his heartbeat. "I'd just like to know what's going on so you don't cause more trouble than you're worth with the pack, is all."
Stiles' heart sped up at his words, and he shot a glare at Derek before snatching his bag, which was sitting on the couch. "Have fun reading the research I stayed up all night preparing for the idiot who 'doesn't care.'" Stiles snapped at him before storming out of the room, the door slamming behind him.
No one noticed the fact that the smell of rage and hurt was minuscule compared to the size of Stiles' eruption. No one knew the truth. Stiles in all actually wasn't that mad — he was more hurt than anything — but he knew he had to get out of there before the discussion turned on him and they asked why he was so upset lately. A topic of conversation he knew would come up sooner rather than later, but a conversation he was going to hold off on having for as long as he possibly could.
But he was still hurt by Derek's words nonetheless, because yeah, hearing that your crush doesn't care about you was painful, believe it or not.
In the room Stiles had just left, Scott glared at Derek heatedly. "Nice," He growled at the man, getting up to go after Stiles.
He too slammed the door behind him.
Derek closed his eyes and sat back in the chair. God, he was such an idiot. He hadn't meant to hurt Stiles' feelings, he just didn't want to make him think he cared about him… even though he did. He cared so much — maybe too much — about him.
"What was that about?" Lydia asked.
"Are you referring to Stiles' little tantrum or Derek lying about his feelings?" Peter raised an eyebrow.
Derek shot a glare in his direction, but before he could say anything, Lydia spoke again. "I meant Derek lying." Derek's face turned red with embarrassment. Was he really so obvious that even someone without supernatural senses could see right through him? "We all know you care deeply about him," She said. Derek gritted his teeth together and stared at the floor, refusing to meet her gaze.
"I don't care-" Derek started, but before he could finish his sentence Boyd cut him off from across the room.
"Cut the crap, Derek," He interrupted, "As Lydia said, we all know."
Derek glanced up at him, sighing as he fidgeted with the corner of one of the papers he was holding.
"Let's just talk about something else, okay?" He looked down to the papers instead of at Boyd, noticing the image of a pixie munching on the flesh of a dead human being. He shuddered and made a mental note to read it later.
"Woah, you make it sound like you're interested in him romantically or something…" Allison said. "Are you?" She questioned. Derek continued to stare down at the papers, his eyebrows furrowed as he refused to answer. "Oh, my God! You totally are!" She practically squealed. It was so unlike Allison that most of the room gave her weird looks.
"Can we please move on?" Derek glowered while the whole pack smirked at him in mirth.
"Just be happy Scott is as oblivious as he is. We all know that boy couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his life. Honestly, how the secret of werewolves hasn't already been outed to the entire world because of him is a mystery to me." Peter rolled his eyes. How Scott didn't know about his infatuation with Stiles was the real mystery. Derek knew he was obvious. He guessed Scott was just oblivious to these kinds of things. Did he not know what arousal smelled like? Had he just gotten it mixed up with something else? Thought Derek was attracted* to someone else? Or had he just not noticed it at all?
Either way, Derek was glad Scott was ignorant to his feelings for Stiles. Just as Peter said, he couldn't keep a secret to save his life.
"And he especially can't keep secrets with Stiles," Allison added as she fiddled with her shirt sleeve. The smell of slight jealousy hit the wolves' noses and the pack looked at her in disbelief.
"Yeah, well, Scott can't do or say anything without it revolving around you. So stop smelling so jealous," Erica said in reply to her comment, and mostly everyone nodded at that.
Allison was about to respond when the door to the loft burst open, revealing a very dejected-looking Scott.
"He called me a furry bastard," Scott whined, completely oblivious to the conversation they all just had. He sauntered over to the couch and plopped down in his seat beside Allison.
"Why? It's not like you did anything," Isaac stated with disbelief. Scott looked over at him with sadness.
"I don't know! He just told me to leave him alone, and that he wanted nothing to do with me." Scott then smiled weakly, "But his heartbeat said otherwise." He then turned to Derek. "What's your issue by the way? Why did you lie and say you don't care about Stiles? Why do you have to be such a jerk to him all the time? He's pack, he should know you care. And don't pretend you don't, we could all hear the lie in your heartbeat. We could all smell the hurt you felt when Stiles got angry." Scott raged and Peter smirked.
"Stiles shouldn't take it personally, Derek's a jerk to everyone," He replied, "But I'm glad to see your nose actually works properly," He finished cryptically, ignoring Derek's growl.
Scott didn't have the energy to try to argue with Peter about what the hell he meant when he knew he wouldn't get an answer, nor did he care enough about what 'Uncle Creeper' (as Stiles always called him) had to say.
Derek glowered at Peter for a moment, who only smirked back. He sighed, not finding the energy to stay angry, and began to thumb through the papers in his lap. As usual, they were very organized and thorough as could be. Each page was hand-written by Stiles in his neat handwriting, the pages filled to the brim with information.
"Let's just think of what to do about these pixies, alright?" He grumbled, beginning to read a page on the magic they had.
"I thought we agreed I would talk to them," Lydia said, tapping her foot against the hardwood floor beneath her.
"First of all, we never agreed on anything, you simply brought it up," Erica argued, "And second of all, what if that doesn't work? We need a plan B if things go south. Especially taking into consideration how vicious they were the other day." She concluded.
"They were only vicious because you didn't try to talk with them. You just flashed your freakish werewolf eyes and expected them to listen when you don't even speak the same language. Of course they were going to be angry," Lydia huffed.
Erica glared at her angrily because she'd called her 'freakish,' but Lydia just glared back, unperturbed.
"Okay… well, what do you suggest we do?" Scott inquired.
Lydia was silent for a moment, glancing at Jackson a bit nervously before she spoke up, "I think we should at least try to talk with them," She voiced, then sighed when she took in Jackson's scowl. "What? What else can we do? Get a flamethrower or something?" Lydia mocked.
Scott's eyes lit up at the comment. "That's a great idea!" Scott exclaimed excitedly, already thinking of the awesome destruction it could cause.
"I was joking, Scott. God." She rolled her eyes incredulously as Scott deflated like a balloon.
"Well, it was a good idea. Joking or not." He pouted and Lydia flipped her hair over her shoulder while looking across the room at the boy. Was he seriously that stupid?
"Where?" Lydia questioned, rolling her eyes again at the bemused expression on Scott's face.
"'Where' what?" He asked.
Lydia looked to the ceiling as if praying for patience as she asked, "Where would we get a flamethrower, Scott?" She narrowed her eyes at him, "How thick can you get?"
"Hey! That's not fair!" Scott whined as Allison took his hand in her own. He turned to her with puppy dog eyes and asked, "You don't think I'm stupid, do you, Ally?"
Allison smiled gently at him, "Of course not," She assured him, then turned her gaze to Lydia, glaring at the girl. Lydia simply shrugged her shoulders, not caring in the slightest.
"Okay, moving along," Derek said as he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance at the entire situation. "We'll try talking to them, alright?" He grumbled. He was still thinking about Stiles. How his heartbeat had sped up ever so slightly. He wondered if it was really in reaction to what he'd said about not caring about him, or if it was in regards to Derek asking what was going on with him.
What was Stiles hiding from him? From the pack?
"Okay, so it's settled then." Isaac went to stand up and head to his room, but before he could even step away from the couch Erica grabbed his arm and pulled him back into a sitting position. "What?" He asked, staring into Erica's deep brown eyes.
"There's something else we need to discuss, as I'm sure you'd all agree," She said darkly, glowering at the whole pack one by one.
"Get on with it, then," Peter said uncaringly.
"It's about Stiles." She fidgeted with her hands nervously as she awaited a response.
"Ah yes, the one thing plaguing everyone's minds… the Stilinski boy mystery," Peter chuckled.
Some of the pack gave him odd looks at his lack of concern, but he shrugged it off unapologetically.
"He has been acting kind of strange lately, hasn't he?" Scott muttered. Erica glared at him in disbelief at the comment.
"Are you kidding me? 'Kinda'? Really?" She gave an eye roll at his obliviousness. "Scott, if you haven't noticed how off your best friend is, I don't think you even deserve that title." She growled and Scott winced.
"I have noticed. Hell, you saw what happened not ten minutes ago," He clarified, "I just don't want to make it seem like a bigger deal than it already is."
"Well, it's a big deal," Boyd said as Scott looked at him incredulously. As Derek sat listening he had to agree with Boyd. The way Stiles had been acting as of late was concerning, to say the least. He'd been skipping meals at school and barely ate at the loft anymore, he'd been so unusually quiet for him, and if the bags under his eyes were anything to go by, then he hadn't been sleeping either. Derek didn't know what was going on with him, if it was something at home, school, or even the supernatural, but whatever it was, with Stiles acting the way he was, it was a big fucking deal.
"Listen, I know you and Erica are like, madly in love or whatever, but you don't have to take her side on everything." Scott lolled his head back onto the couch, annoyed.
"Believe it or not, McCall, we all care about Stiles too. It's not just you," Boyd growled as the room tensed.
Boyd could be a scary motherfucker when he wanted to be.
"Yeah, well, he's my best friend, not yours, Boyd," Scott growled back, seemingly unphased by Boyd's aggression.
"Ladies, ladies, you're both ugly," Jackson joked, trying to lighten the mood. His face turned more earnest in the next moment. "In all seriousness though, what do we think is wrong with the nerd?" He put his hands together and rested his chin atop them, looking around the room expectantly.
"Well, for one, he always smells like disinfectant, and it's kind of gross," Isaac mumbled.
"What kind of disinfectant?" Lydia inquired, ignoring the 'gross' part of his comment.
"Peroxide, maybe? I'm not sure, does anyone else know?" Isaac questioned the pack.
"It's definitely peroxide," Peter confirmed while Lydia thought silently.
It took a moment for her to list everything in her head, and when she was sure she'd remembered everything correctly, she finally explained, "It could be used for different things. Its main use is to disinfect cuts, burns, and scrapes, but it has many other uses, such as to clean ear wax and get rid of canker sores or acne. It can even be used as a hair dye. Another use it has is a replacement for mouthwash for things like infected gums or even gingivitis." She rambled.
The pack stared at her in bewilderment, wondering why she knew of so many uses for peroxide, but they knew Lydia was a fountain of knowledge, so it wasn't all that shocking.
"Okay, well, he does get hurt a lot… maybe he's been cleaning a wound or a few, especially after what happened with the pixies," Allison frowned, thinking.
"Yeah, that explains that I guess," Scott said, and though Derek wanted to point out that Stiles had smelled like that before the pixies attacked, he didn't even think they should be having this conversation behind Stiles' back in the first place — regardless of whether or not he thought it was important — so he decided to keep his mouth shut about it.
But just like everything else in his life, his plan to ask Stiles about it in private and not have the entire pack privy to such sensitive information about him went to shit.
"No, he smelled like that even before then," Erica mused. Derek nearly face-palmed right then and there.
"Well, it could be anything Lydia listed. Like maybe he's got a sore mouth or something," Jackson yawned. "Listen, it's not that I don't think Stilinski isn't great or anything — trust me, I've totally changed my views since being bitten, I know him and McCall aren't that bad anymore — but I really want to go home. I've got homework to do and I'm tired as hell, so can we get this over with?" Jackson said unapologetically, and some of the pack actually had the audacity to growl at him. Namely Scott, Erica, Boyd, and Derek.
Geez.
"If you don't want to be here, then don't," Erica snarled as Jackson looked around sheepishly.
"Okay, fine. I'll stay. Just calm the hell down," Jackson said as the pack went back to talking.
They chattered on for a while about what could be wrong, but Stiles hadn't come to any of them about his problems, so it was all just speculation. That's when Isaac pointed something out.
"He's been changing in the bathroom for gym class," He said. A few people huffed at the information, thinking.
"Maybe he's self-conscious?" Scott wondered aloud, some of the pack looking at him incredulously.
"You do realize who we're talking about here, right?" Isaac asked mirthlessly. "Don't you remember what happened a few months ago when Kenny Smith got his clothes taken from the locker room during gym class and had to come out with no clothes on?" He snorted. "Stiles literally just whipped his clothes off too so the kid wouldn't be as embarrassed."
"And what would he have to be self-conscious about? If you don't remember, I can clearly recall some muscle on those abs of his, and those narrow hips, ugh," Erica groaned, causing Boyd to cast a jealous glance at her. "What?" She asked, "I'm just stating the truth."
"You don't have to make it sound like you want him, though," Allison said in surprise.
Erica huffed a small laugh at her comment. "I've got all the man I could ever ask for right here." She smiled up at Boyd, kissing him on the cheek, "Trust me, I may have had a small crush on him before, but I wouldn't ever want him like that now. We're too good of friends, I wouldn't want to ruin that," She assured.
"So you're saying the only reason you wouldn't date him is because you don't want to ruin your friendship?" Boyd asked, and Erica frowned up at him.
"Like I said, I've got all the man I could ever ask for already." She smiled, rubbing Boyd's arm affectionately.
Boyd didn't say anything, knowing Erica was telling the truth by her steady heartbeat.
"Moving on from… whatever that was, why else would he be hiding in the bathrooms while everyone is changing?" Scott questioned while staring at Erica, who pursed her lips.
"I don't know… he has to be hiding something, though," She said, returning Scott's gaze.
"On his body? Doubtful," Scott deadpanned, and Erica sighed.
The room was silent for a moment, before Scott said, "Maybe he joined a fight club." And nearly everyone laughed. "No, seriously! Think about it, he smells like disinfectant, which could be from the injuries he gets in the fight club, and he might be changing in the bathroom to hide his injuries! Erica even said it herself, he's got some new muscle. And the flinching at everything could totally be from getting beat up. Plus, he's been talking about wanting to get stronger like, a lot lately… so…"
"You know… Scott's got a point," Isaac muttered in thought as all eyes turned to him disbelievingly, which caused him to look up at the ceiling momentarily. "No, not the fight club thing," He rolled his eyes, "But think about it, changing in the bathroom, probably because of cuts or bruises on his body, the flinching from getting beat up, the injuries he may or may not be cleaning…" He recited, the entire pack waiting for whatever conclusion he'd come to. "He's probably being bullied," He finished, and everyone in the room gasped. "He hasn't been with us at lunch hour, maybe that's when it's happening."
"Oh, my God," Allison whispered. "Should… should we talk to him about it?" Allison paused, "I mean, he's probably going to deny it, though…"
"He wouldn't lie to us, not when his heartbeat would give him away," Jackson pointed out as the room nodded along in agreement,
"Then should we?" Allison asked, "Talk to him, I mean."
"I… don't think we should," Lydia announced sternly.
"Well, it would clear everything up to just ask him, wouldn't it?" Scott questioned.
Lydia sighed, "We don't know for sure that that's what's going on, and do you really want to explain that we had," Lydia looked at her phone's lock screen, "A half-an-hour long meeting about what's wrong with him? I mean, you can ask him and in turn tell him about this, if you want, but I'm certainly not."
"So what do you suggest we do, then?" Scott inquired. The wolves could smell the nervousness wafting off nearly everyone in the room.
"We follow him, make-" Lydia started before Scott immediately cut in,
"Are you suggesting that we stalk him?" He growled, and Lydia once again looked up at the ceiling, begging for patience, before focussing her eyes back on Scott.
"No," She said, "If you would have let me finish, I was going to say that we follow him and make sure he's never alone at school. Not that we stalk him," She finished, clenching her teeth together the entire time she spoke. Scott put his head down like a sad puppy at her tone.
"Listen, don't be mad…" Scott said apologetically, "I care about him, and I'm just worried." He fidgeted with his hands, which sat atop his lap as Allison put her hand on his shoulder soothingly.
"Well then, act like it." Lydia flipped her hair again before standing up. "Are we settled, then?" She questioned with her eyes closed as Jackson followed her in standing up. A choir of 'yeah's and 'yes's flooded the room as most of the pack got up out of their seats as well, stretching before getting ready to leave.
They all felt good about themselves, having thought to have found out what was going on with Stiles.
Derek smiled once everyone left and it was just him, Peter, and Isaac sitting around on the couches. Even though he was happy, there was something in the back of his mind telling him they were wrong about this, but he ignored it in favour of hoping things could work out for once.
"What are you smiling about?" Peter asked, and Derek rested his head against the top of the couch.
"Hopefully things go back to normal around here," He replied.
Peter cocked his head to the side. "You mean with your little crush?" Peter smirked, but Derek wasn't in the mood to give him a reaction.
"Yeah," Was all he said, sighing.
Little did Derek know, the whole world could hope for Stiles' happiness, though nothing could change the fact that it wouldn't be reappearing any time soon.
And he'd later come to realize just how fucked up the situation they were in really was.