Stiles Stilinski || Resembles Dylan O’Brien || Sixteen || Shaman || TAKEN
The Hale Pack. After Scott’s betrayal, Stiles can’t count himself in his pack because he can’t be sure if he can count him as his friend. He knows that allying with the pack will help him in the long run, and might keep them alive. He is also loyal to Lydia.
Stiles had always felt like he was buzzing out of his skin. Ever since he could remember, he could never sit still in his seat, never keep his mouth shut when he knew the answer. It was like trying to fight instinct, trying to fight himself, and whenever teachers told him to stop he felt like crying all night long.
Due to his teachers thinking he was simply an obstinate kid, most of the time the other kids didn’t really want to play with him. He played with Scott McCall sometimes, but only sometimes. Then, one day, Scott came in sad instead of smiling like usual. Stiles knew what it was like to feel sad. He sat right down next to him and didn’t leave since.
Stiles and Scott grew inseparable. Despite having other friends eventually, as they grew older, it would always fall back to the two of them. Stiles loved that. He loved being someone’s shoulder to cry on, loved having another person to lean on no matter what. They had each other’s backs; like brothers.
Until they were old enough to babysit themselves, Stiles and Scott practically lived together, switching off at each other’s houses to accommodate their parents’ busy work schedules. Stiles’ father was the Sheriff and his mother was a doctor, but even though they weren’t around as much as others, when they were, it was perfect. Stiles always made sure Scott knew that he could totally share his dad with him, which Scott appreciated.
In third grade, Stiles was diagnosed with ADHD. This was during the ADD/ADHD boom, where everyone thought their child had it, but Stiles’ was so severe there could be no mistake. After he started medication, his life became almost perfect. He had loving parents, could finally sit still in class long enough for people to realize how smart and eager to learn he was, and he had his best friend.
The summer before eighth grade was when it all fell apart. Stiles was walking home from school when he saw police cruisers and an ambulance driving towards the river. Like any curious eighth grader, he ran after them; after all, his dad would probably be there to tell him what was going on.
When Stiles arrived, his mother was in a body bag.
A lot changed, after that. Scott was still his best friend, and he helped a lot, but Stiles felt lost and lonely. He’d always been close to his mom - even in middle school he’d cuddle up to her on the couch to watch bad movies. Her death left a gaping hole in the house no one seemed to fill.
Melissa tried to help, but Stiles couldn’t take it for months. Couldn’t go over to Scott’s just to see he had a mom. He wondered if that’s how Scott felt at his after his dad left, but dismissed it immediately; Scott’s dad was a jerk. His mom had been the greatest.
His dad started drinking and didn’t stop. It took him most of that year to ease up, and even then, there was whiskey once a night. Stiles should have been more attentive, should have said something, but he was dealing in his own way. He stopped medicating, holing up in his room and playing video games with Scott. He stopped babbling, stopped fidgeting. He had no motivation anymore.
Yet time heals all wounds, and soon enough Stiles was back on his feet. He stopped his dad drinking and started teaching himself to cook, trying to figure out a way to fix the damage done to his body from all that he’d been drinking. He hadn’t been perfectly healthy to begin with, and the family history of heart problems was no longer a distant concern. Family came back together, Stiles’ life went back to something resembling normal, but the hole in their house never really went away. It’s still there in the way she’d sing in the kitchen and read on the front porch at twilight.
Life went on. Scott dragged him to lacrosse tryouts, where Jackson Whittemore, as usual, beat the shit out of him. Jackson also started going out with Lydia Martin, which was a blow. Lydia had been the love of his life since she was the only other one to master her times tables in one day. Why she was dating douchebag Whittemore was beyond him. She was better than that, and he knew it, even if no one else did.
Scott and Stiles became benchwarmers, which was fine with him. He didn’t want Jackson tackling him again. He joined for Scott, anyway - so he made sure to at least run with him in the mornings. Sometimes, since the death of his mother, Stiles felt a little bit like he tried too hard to take care of people. Then Scott would do something ridiculous like forget how to read the analogue clock, and he wouldn’t feel bad anymore.
Freshman year passed without a single word from Lydia, far too many body checks from jackson, and no girlfriends to be seen, for either of them. For a moment Stiles lost hope.
Then there was the night in the woods. The night he went searching for the body of Laura Hale. After the fact, he realized how awful it was. How looking for a body wasn’t fun, how disrespecting someone’s memory wasn’t funny. But at the time, he thought it was awesome, and dragged his best friend into it.
Stiles thinks about that a lot, now. About how it’s his fault Scott was bitten.
So Scott became a werewolf. At first Stiles thought it was awesome. Hello, werewolves. But the more research he did, the more he realized that the full moon would be awful. And when Scott tried to kill him, something broke, there.
It was the first of many times Stiles noticed Scott picking Allison over him.
Life dragged on faster than it ever had before. Scott was always involved with something - searching for the alpha, saving Derek, saving Jackson, lying to Allison and her creepy family, trying to gain control. Stiles was there for all of it. He was the one who taught him how to control himself, who went with Derek while Scott got the bullet, who researched wolves so that Scott would know how to live again. He gave up hours and safety for his best friend, because that’s what he did. That’s who he was.
Peter’s death wasn’t a shock to him the way it was to Scott. He had always been suspicious of the cure; in fact, he doubted it ever existed at all. However, he also knew that Scott never would have worked with Derek unless there was promise of a cure, and that Derek needed him in order to take the alpha down and stop the killings. Scott saw it as Derek’s power trip, but Stiles saw it as a necessary sort of lie. The kind that’s in everyone’s best interest.
Of course, he couldn’t really focus on it with Lydia in the hospital. He thought he didn’t really care, exactly, how Peter died, as long as he paid for what he did to her.
Then Derek actually did go on a power trip. Which wasn’t cool. He turned his betas and Scott was furious and Stiles was… not furious, but not happy. He wondered exactly how in control Derek really was, how close the wolf pushed to the surface. He wondered if Derek was still in there, fighting for control somewhere. Because despite being overconfident in his knowledge, Derek had never seemed truly greedy. In fact, he seemed to push good things away.
But Stiles couldn’t tell Scott any of this, because Scott wouldn’t listen. Scott wanted to blame Derek, so that’s what they did, because he was Scott’s best friend and he was loyal to him first. Despite Scott hanging up on him in the pool, despite everything. Scott had always been there for him. Allison and he were honeymooning - he would snap out of it eventually. Stiles knew this.
He thought he knew this.
Scott grew distant and Lydia grew crazy. She would lose focus in class, trembling in the hallways. But no matter how many times Stiles tried to help her, tried to get the others to help her, something else was always more important. Stiles got that other things were important, but Lydia should have mattered. He was still mad about that.
Things with the Kanima became crazy. They had no idea what they were doing. Even Derek didn’t know what he was doing. They were hopeless and trying to avoid Gerard Argent on top of it. He could feel the build, sense something was wrong.
Then he got kidnapped. He didn’t really think that it was the bruising so much as it was the psychological aspect that did him in. Gerard forced him into submission and made him watch his friends in pain. Despite everything, he cared enough about Boyd and Erica to be pissed about that. But Gerard broke him down. He felt weak, useless. He just wanted to get away. He wasn’t a hero, and he realized that then.
But eventually he caved. He went to help with the Kanima and watched as his best friend betrayed him, realized he’d been betraying him for weeks, and the love of his life fell into the arms of someone else. Someone Stiles had realized wasn’t quite the douche he’d been led to believe, but there was something about it that broke him down and stripped him bare. Lydia and Jackson’s love saved his life. In that moment, he let his chance of ever gaining Lydia Martin’s love float away. His heart broke in his chest twice that night; once for Scott, and once for Lydia.
Now Stiles is changed. He doesn’t trust Scott anymore, can’t trust him, not after so many lies. Not after choosing Allison over him, letting him get beat and kidnapped for ridiculous infatuation. He talks to Lydia now more than he ever did before; now that he’s let go, Stiles can realize how great of a friend she’ll be. He wants to trust Derek - Derek, who can’t really lie very well at all, who Scott used too - and help his pack, but he doesn’t know how to trust again when the fundamentals of his world have shifted. So he stays in his room and starts talking more, the way he used to, when he was a kid, because if he says enough words he wont have to admit that he’s afraid.