Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.”

- George Carlin

If you saw Stiles at the grocery shop buying food and cleaning items, that’s no big deal. He’s always done the shopping since his mom passed; it was just his thing now. But if you saw him with a cart full of can food and stacks of meat, you’d wonder what the hell he was doing.

Stiles grabbed the last two cans of beans from the shelf before making his way to the check out lane. The wheel squeaked nosily. He gave the cashier a nod; ignoring the strange look the cashier gave him. “Family outing or something?” she uttered a chortle.

“Or something.” He answered and waited patiently as the cashier ran the items through. A stock boy had to be called to pack the stuff in cardboard boxes before the cans piled up and made a mountain.

It took about ten minutes before the last item was scanned and a boy with curly brown hair ran up from behind him, and placed a bag of chips and a can of pop down. Stiles glared at the boy who only smiled. “What? I’m starving. Derek made us run the whole morning and I haven’t had anything since I woke.”

The boy, Isaac, scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue as if he wasn’t a seventeen-year-old boy who was turning eighteen next week.

“This too?” the cashier asked and Stiles nodded.

Stiles took out a shiny new visa from his wallet and paid the groceries. Finally out of the store, Isaac and Stiles wheeled out two carts full of bags and walked to the Camaro. The ride back was quiet, aside my Isaac’s chewing and obnoxiously gulping but what can you say, Stiles deals with stuff like this on a daily basis.

“Guys!” Stiles called out as he stepped out of the car, knowing that the werewolves could hear him perfectly. He sighed tiredly as Scott came out of the house first, followed quickly by the rest of the pack.

Stiles knew they could do it in one trip so he made his way to the newly rebuilt house. He kicked off his shoes, the smell of paint still fresh, and dropped on the couch. He rubbed at his eyes until he saw spots and enjoyed the peace and quiet while the pack was busy outside.

A creak on the floorboards sounded beside him. He yelped loudly when he opened his eyes to see Derek standing above him, sporting his usual frown and glare. “Oh my god, Derek! Don’t do that.”

Stiles grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and took out the visa, handing it over to him. “You bought a lot of stuff.”

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have gone overboard but the pups eat so much and - ”

“It’ll be gone by the end of the week, you should have bought more.”

Stiles raised his brows. “Noted.”

Derek’s mouth did a strange thing in what Stiles liked to think was a smile. Stiles’ only known two looks Derek had since the first day they met, the ‘you-annoy-me-get-out-of-my-face’ look and the ‘I’ll-rip-your-throat-out-with-my-teeth’ look. But lately Stiles was honored with a small twitch of the mouth and Stiles couldn’t complain.

The pack charged in with four bags in each hand and disappeared in the kitchen. The noise made Stiles flinch and Derek sigh heavily before they decided to follow the pups. They helped unpacking and stocking the cabinets and it made Stiles feel thankful that Derek made sure the blueprints had a massive kitchen. Each room the house had was massive. It didn’t feel crowded like it did at Derek’s old apartment and it made Stiles wonder how much money the Hale family has.

Finally the commotion calmed when he boiled water and they all sat around the kitchen enjoying their hot cup of tea. Scott was talking about lacrosse to the guys and Erica was talking about a major shopping spree she and the girls should have. Stiles stood by the sink, pouring milk in his tea while listening in. He felt warmth against his back and looked back to find Erica leaning on him. She sighed in contempt and he didn’t say anything or bothered to move away from her.

-

Stiles noticed it after the Alpha pack was killed. Except Ethan and Aiden because they made the right choice to join Derek’s pack, and Derek accepted them without any hesitation. After the fight, the wounded were taken to Deaton to help the healing process and Stiles followed along, not because he was the only one who could help Deaton but because he came to the conclusion before the fight that he genuinely cared for all of them.

The pack nearly lost Erica and Boyd when they decided to leave Derek but he convinced them to stay and he couldn’t honestly imagine what it would be like if they left. What the pack would be like if they left.

He was busy fixing the bandages on Isaac when he noticed it; Isaac leaned in his touches and whimpered when he pulled away. He was anxious when he left the room and calmed by the sight of him. It wasn’t just him either it was the others. Scott was practically attached to his hip the whole time. He knew Scott since grade school and he never acted like this around him.

It toned down when they healed but there was the reaching for his hand, the hugging, and the nuzzling of the neck. It freaked him out. He confronted Scott a week later and Scott told him he didn’t know he was talking about. He tried to ask the others but they brushed it off saying they do it to each other all time, why was it any difference doing it to ‘mom’, they joked.

‘Mom’? Stiles wasn’t sure where that nickname came from and he would cringe every time they called him that. He eventually got them to forget that word in their vocabulary and they went back to calling him by his preferred name.

-

“Stiles?” He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at the source of the voice.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been talking to you this whole time. Where are you right now?” Lydia poked him on the forehead.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff.”

“Oh, alright.” She rolled her eyes and patted him on the cheek. “I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts.”

She smiled, shaking her head before sitting down with the other girls. “Stiles?”

Isaac stood beside him, hands cupped around his cup of tea. “Yes, my pup?”

Isaac’s cheek turned a slight shade of pink and acted as if he hadn’t acknowledged the nickname. “Can you help with my assignment? I’m stuck on a question and I’ve tried talking to my teacher but he tried to explain it to me.”

“Of course, my pup. After supper okay?”

Isaac smiled and nodded before leaving the kitchen. Stiles looked over to the clock and decided to start cooking. If he doesn’t, he’ll hear “is dinner ready yet?” until he does. He walked inside the small room filled with shelves stocked with food and stood there for a minute before deciding what to cook. “Alright, out.” He said out loud and no one needed to be told twice.

-

“Oh my god, I always love your food Stiles but this is one of the best.” Scott moaned as he held his stomach. Stiles grabbed his plate from the counter and sat down with the others who were already finished with their plates.

“Yeah, Stiles, this is awesome.” Isaac said taking his last bite.

The pack stayed where they were and talked among themselves as Stiles ate his food. Even after Stiles was finished, they still sat around the table. They did this since they had their first dinner together. They would all sit together and sometimes it would be a pack meeting, talking about how their days went and even when one of them wanted to vent, or had a bad day.

Though, even if some of them didn’t want to admit it, they were all just glad they were here. They had been through so much.

-

The next day, Stiles woke up with a headache.

It was Saturday and normally he wouldn’t get up before twelve. But he had to pick up his textbook from school for the assignment Ms. Greene extended until Monday because he completely forgot it was due on Friday.

He couldn’t believe he’s so behind on assignments and the test he had on Monday would not look good on his semester grade. It’s been a month since the Alpha and Jennifer thing happened that he had been so caught up with it that nothing else but taking care of the Pack and his father was important.

He quickly dressed and ran down the stairs. I’ll eat when I come back, he thought before grabbing his keys from the table and heading to the door. Just as he touched the knob, the door opened and his father came in.

“Stiles, where are you going so early?”

“Have to pick something up at the school and the faster I get it down, the faster I can finish the stuff I have to do at Derek’s.”

“Alright, but I want you home early. You came home late last night.”

“You weren’t here - ”

Stiles stopped and the Sheriff gave him the look. He was caught. “Look, it’s nice you spend time with your friends and you helping Derek with his house but I, at least, want you home at a decent time.”

“We were watching a movie and I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, but from now on home before ten, alright?”

“Alright.” The Sheriff pulled him by the back of his neck and kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll be asleep all day. I had an extra shift with this case.”

“Okay, I’ll cook supper.”

-

Stiles walked inside the building after spending ten minutes knocking on the front doors before the janitor finally came. He headed to his locker and grabbed his textbook. Just as he closed the door to his locker, his phone rang. “Hello?” He answered.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah, what is it?” The person sounded out of breath. He looked down at the name and it said caller unknown. The person didn’t answer instead breathed heavily on the other line. “C’mon man, I don’t have time for this. If this is some weird stalker thing you’re pulling, the heavy breathing is my least favorite scenario.”

“Stiles?”

“Yes, this is he. What is it?”

“Stiles?”

“Dude, look I’m flattered but I’m kind of busy right now and I’m just getting really impatient here.”

“Stiles?” the person said again.

“I’m hanging up.”

Stiles pressed the end button and pocketed his phone. He headed back to his truck, yelling out a thanks to the janitor and drove back home. His phone rang again. “Dude, get over it. I’m not going to participate in this sick game you’re playing at.”

“What?” He recognized the voice.

“Oh, hey Scott, what’s up?”

“What was that about?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Really, ‘cause that didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Some guy called earlier and probably has a fetish for scared prey.”

It was quiet for a moment before Scott answered. “What kind of people do you know?”

“I was going to say he had the wrong number but he said my name and it showed no name on caller ID. So, I have no idea who it was but he knows me.”

“Well, anyways, I called to say Derek wants us over at Deaton’s in an hour. He felt it before all of us, something is near.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know but whatever it is, it feels bad. Where’s your dad?”

“Home, sleeping probably. He took an extra shift.”

“Okay, tell him to not leave the house until we know what it is.”

“Alright.” Stiles entered his home and found his dad sitting at the table, back faced to him. “Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

He closed his phone and sighed, looking down at his textbook. If he was quick, maybe he could finish half and finish it when he came back. Depending on the situation, pack meetings only lasted about twenty minutes. “Dad?”

The sheriff looked over his shoulder; mouth full with whatever he was eating. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to head out again, just wanted to drop this off. I’ll be back later.”

“Before ten, Stiles.”

“I know.”

Chapter Text

“Stiles, what happened the night you went under? When you, Allison and Scott searched for the tree. What did you see?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Try.”

“I saw nothing but darkness.”

-

 

“Stiles?”

The voice echoed, causing a faint ring in Stiles’ ears. He threw his hands up, grabbing nothing but air. He shot upright, trying to see what was going on. Wherever he was, it was pitched black. But he knew he was outside. He felt around, crawling on his hands and knees, touching dirt, leaves and rocks. A small cool breeze blew in his face and he fell back. “Stiles!”

“Scott?” He whispered.

A pair of hands cupped his face and another wrapped around his back. “Oh my god, Stiles. We’ve been looking for you for days-”

“It’s you, oh Stiles, it’s really you.” Said the voice behind him.

“Step back.” Stiles recognized the voice. He felt a sigh a relief wash over. At least he wasn’t alone. “Give him some space to breath.”

The two pair of hands disappeared and they were replaced with two callused hands on both sides of his neck. “D- derek?” Stiles barely choked. His throat was dry and painfully scratched.

“Shh – shh- shh. Don’t talk.”

“Derek, we have to take him to Deaton.” Stiles now recognized the third voice, he reached for the owner and in return Isaac grabbed for his hand. What happened? He wanted to ask but the pain his throat made it hard to speak. Why were they acting like something bad had happened? “Derek, c’mon.”

He reached for his face with his free hand, feeling something warm on his cheeks, but one of them grabbed it. “No, don’t touch it.”

He tried to pull his hand free from Isaac’s and either Derek or Scott’s hold, wanting to know why his cheeks felt wet. “Stiles, don’t touch it or you’ll get it infected. The wound looks a few days old and it doesn’t look good.”

Wound? What happened to his face? He had only just realized that something was wrapped around his eyes, covering them, which explained why he couldn’t see. The realization made the fabric itch and bother him. He pulled - practically yanking away his hands from their grasps and grabbed at the cloth. He nearly pulled it off when both of his arms were grabbed. “Stiles!”

“Get off.” He chocked.

“We promise we’ll take it off when we get to Deaton’s, okay?”

One of them gently took his arm and helped him up on his feet. His legs ached and he limped to wherever they were leading him. “Are you okay to walk?”

He couldn’t answer. The effort in standing up and only walking five steps exhausted him. He felt lightheaded and disorientated. He fell to his knees and all of them grabbed him. “He can’t walk. Not like this.”

-

Stiles wasn’t afraid of the dark. He outgrew the fear of the dark when he was a child. He remembers his mom giving him a nightlight when the light in the hallway bothered him and eventually he didn’t need that nightlight. It was all in the matter of understanding that nothing was there to hurt you but since he found out his best friend was a werewolf; he shuddered at the thought of what hid in the darkness.

Stiles had fallen unconscious when they asked him to walk again. Now he woke to silence and panicked. He reached for something – anything - because they hadn’t taken off the cloth. A pair of hands grabs his and shushed him. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. We’re all here.”

“Stiles, I’m handing you a glass of water.” Deaton’s voice startled him but he took the water with no question. It only just about touched his throat when it burned his throat and he spat it out. “You have to force yourself to drink.”

Despite the pain, he managed two gulps and fell back on the makeshift bed. “Rest now, Stiles.” Said Deaton before his or someone else’s footsteps walked out of the room. A small female hand brushed their hand through his hair.

“Hey there Batman, how are you?”

“Don’t make him talk Erica, he needs to sleep.”

“I know.” Stiles reached for her hand and held it, falling asleep to the sound of familiar voices.

-

“Stiles, what happened the night you went under? When you, Allison and Scott searched for the tree. What did you see?”

“I remember falling. I remember crying out for help.”

-

It was quiet when he woke again. He didn’t panic this time knowing that he was somewhere safe. He felt the cloth still wrapped around his eyes so he assumed they left it on because whatever happened to him was serious. He tried to pull himself up and heard a noise beside him. He looked in the general direction and held up his hand. “Stiles?”

“Derek?” He managed to say. His throat felt better but it felt like he hadn’t had water in days.

“I’m right here.” Derek took his hand and they interlocked their fingers together. It grew quiet and Stiles leaned in forward, resting his forehead on – maybe – Derek’s chest. Derek’s free hand rested on the back of Stiles’s neck and his chin on the top of his head. Stiles liked to think this wasn’t weird or strange for Derek, he hoped this was comfort and reassurance.

“What happened?”

“What was the last thing you remember?”

“I – uhm,” He said, thinking about it for a long minute. “We were walking around the woods the whole day and evening, and it was getting really dark. It was almost too dark like I couldn’t see five feet in front of me. The moon wasn’t even out. I remember Scott was walking ahead of me and - ” He paused, trying to remember what happened next but it felt like a block in his mind. “That’s it.”

Derek’s hand lifted to Stiles’s chin and tilted it up. Stiles blushed, knowing that Derek could hear his heart racing in his chest. He felt Derek’s hand brush his cheek with his thumb and his breath on his face. Derek sighed heavily and placed his forehead against Stiles’s. “I’m so sorry.” A shiver ran down Stiles’s spine as Derek nuzzled his neck, brushing his lips against the skin. It was almost a whimper, “I’m so sorry, Stiles.”

Stiles pulled away, feeling frustrated that he couldn’t see what was happening. “Derek, what happened? How long was I gone?”

“We-” Derek straightened, letting his hands fall to his side and he walked a few steps away from Stiles. He rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at it in frustration. “I could feel it when you disappeared. It was like you vanished into thin air, you’re scent lingered in that one spot and I couldn’t pick it up anywhere else. We – we lost you. You were gone for five days and we looked everywhere. We had no idea where you were and all of us, especially me, were going insane. Stiles, we were so fucking terrified.”

Stiles got up from the makeshift bed; his legs still weak but managed to find Derek. Then Derek said, “I was so angry at Scott. He was supposed to look after you. I know, you can take care of yourself and you’ve voiced it so many times but whatever was there in the woods was dangerous.”

Derek cleared his throat awkwardly and whatever he was doing, Stiles couldn’t see, but then a moment after he heard the sound of the door opening in the front. They waited until the person, or people, came in. “Stiles, you’re awake.”

It was Deaton. Someone rushed over and pulled him in a bear hug, pushing the air right out of his lungs. “God damn Stiles.” And Isaac.

He then felt another person wrapping their arms around him and Isaac. “Fuck you had us worried.” And Scott.

“Where are the others?” Derek asked.

“Doing what you asked them to do.” Isaac answered.

“What’s that?” Stiles asked.

“Looking for whatever is in the woods.” Scott answered. “With the help of Chris and Allison.”

“Alright Stiles, how do you feel?” Deaton asked. Stiles was led to the makeshift bed and sat down. He felt hands on the cloth wrapped around his eyes. “I cleaned the wound and wrapped a clean cloth around it. I’ve only seen the wounds, nobody else and if you want them to leave, just say it.”

“Why would I want them to leave?”

“Okay then so I’m going to start unwrapping the cloth.” Stiles nodded and Deaton began to unwrap it. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it painfully slow and the suspense was making the werewolves impatient and agitated. Finally it fell from his eyes and Stiles heard three gasps.

“Oh my god.”

“Now, don’t scare him.”

“Don’t treat like I’m a child, Deaton. Please.” Stiles up to touch his face. He still couldn’t see. Why couldn’t he see?

“I’m sorry Stiles but -” Deaton trailed off. “Stiles, do you remember what happened in the time you disappeared?”

“No.”

It was quiet. It was so quiet that it made Stiles nervous and scared. He felt around his face and stopped at his eyes. Something was keeping his eyes closed. “What is this?” He tried to feel it but he couldn’t tell what it was. It hurt to the touch. “Please somebody tell what this is.”

“Stiles…”

“Why can’t I open my eyes?” He tried to scratch at it but somebody stopped him. “Please, somebody tell me why I can’t open my eyes.”

“That’s a thread, Stiles. You’re eyes are sewn shut.” Said Deaton, carefully, almost like he was afraid to say it. “Stiles, I’m going to have to cut the thread now.”

Stiles pushed Deaton away. “No, please. Don’t touch me.”

“Stiles, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Please.” Stiles had jumped up from the makeshift bed and now the effort of moving his body was exhausting him. He slid to the floor, pulling his legs to his chest and covering his head with his arms. “Please don’t touch me.”

-

“Stiles, what happened the night you went under? When you, Allison and Scott searched for the tree. What did you see?”

“I remember screaming.”

Chapter Text

“The best option is to bring you to the hospital,” Stiles felt out of place. He could hear Deaton, his entire explanation of what needed to be done and the risk following the cutting, but it was almost like he was listening behind a bubble. He felt his body grow cold and numb all at the same time. “Melissa will bring you to one of the rooms, and you’ll have to be admitted,”

“Why didn’t we do this in the first place?” Derek was pissed off.

“Derek,” another voice, Scott’s, sounded like he was warning him.

“I just want to know why it’s taking us so long to bring him to the hospital,” Derek’s voice was louder and more agitated. Stiles could almost hear the panic in his tone, but he wasn’t sure. He could feel it - the tension in his muscles and bones. He could practically picture Derek’s jaw clench, and his brows furrow together - the look he’s seen one too many times.

“We had to make sure that thing is not around here. We had to focus on Stiles’s safety,” Scott interjected.

“I’m sure you’re great at your job, Deaton, but you’re a vet. Alright, just a vet,” Derek shot back quickly. “We would’ve protected Stiles either way in a hospital, where he could’ve gotten better help with Melissa,”

“Hey, man,” Scott remarked defensively. “Just chill out. Deaton’s helped us in every way he could,”

“It’s alright, Scott,” Deaton reassured. Stiles couldn’t tell from his voice if he was hurt or indifferent to Derek’s words. “Derek, I assure you that I have done everything Melissa, or any other licensed nurse, would. Melissa is aware of what I did, and she knows what to do next,”

Stiles heard the same tired sigh Derek does when he is frustrated or annoyed.

The door opened, and Stiles couldn’t tell how many people walked in. He felt his shoulders drop, a heaviness in his chest, and he started feeling overwhelmed. Stiles knew them - how long did he know each of them? - but he couldn’t tell which footsteps belonged to who. Frustrated, he buried his face in his hands.

“Don’t do that,” Deaton said before him, and Stiles quickly tore his hands away, burying them underneath his legs.

“It’s safe,” a third voice - Allison - said after a silent pause.

“Stiles, we’ll have to move you now,” Scott sounded closer next to him now, which caused Stiles to jump. He felt someone place their hands on him gently, and he let whoever lift him from his chair and guide him out the door.

“Scott,” Stiles croaked.

“Yes, Stiles?” he heard him behind him.

Stiles suddenly felt confused. He couldn’t tell who was holding him, and he reached up, gripping on their clothes. His hand travelled upwards and touched the person’s cheek. He felt the prickle of a beard against his hand, and his body relaxed.

“You okay, Stiles?” Scott asked from behind him, closer this time.

“I’m okay,” Stiles nodded and leaned closer into Derek’s chest. They continued to walk, and Stiles felt his entire body tense. His muscles ached painfully at the terrifying uncertainty of what was in front of him. The walk to the car felt like an eternity, and it was a whole journey for all of them. Each step of the stairs felt like he would fall off a cliff.

When he was finally sitting in the vehicle, he couldn’t help but remember the stupid game of pinning the tail on the donkey he and Scott used to play as children. The butterflies in his stomach after one of the adults spun him around a few times before he blindly walked toward what he thought was the direction of the sticker on the wall. However, it wasn’t like when he was a kid when he could easily take off the blindfold.

“I can’t,” he whimpered. “I can’t do this,”

“Stiles,” Scott said from the front of the vehicle.

Everyone was silent, and Stiles couldn’t fucking breathe. He gripped the seat, and he suddenly felt like his body was burning up. “Stop the car,” Stiles stammered. No one dared to touch him right now, and he needed to get out. His mind screamed to fucking open his eyes, but he couldn’t. “Stop the fucking car!” he shouted, and the tires skidded the car against the gravel road.

He knew no one was next to his left, and he threw himself outside the car. He cried out in pain when his knees and hands painfully landed on the ground, and he heard a chorus of voices behind him shouting his name.

His fingers scratched at the ground, gripping at sand and rocks, and he screamed - out of frustration and agonizing fear. Hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a ferocious hug, gripping onto him with such desperation he felt his heart squeeze painfully. He immediately could feel that it was Derek - his large arms enveloped around him, and Stiles felt clung onto him.

“Stiles,” he whispered against his ear. “I’m right here. Hold on to me,” He felt Derek rock him slightly back and forth, rubbing the back of his neck softly.

“I can’t breathe,” he gasped and tried to pull away.

Derek immediately pulled back and held him from an arm’s distance. “Here,” he slowly and carefully lifted Stiles to his feet. “Breathe in and out,”

Stiles held Derek’s arm, and he could almost swear he could draw blood if gripped hard enough. He stepped forward, facing whatever was in front of him. He listened to the soft rumble of the vehicle, and he finally noticed the smell of exhaust. He scrunched his nose, and Derek seemed to notice.

“C’mere,” he murmured and guided Stiles forward. “Here, watch your step. The ground is higher here,” Stiles carefully lifted his feet, and they climbed the higher ground. He couldn’t tell where they were, but he felt better. The cool air felt nice against his skin, and he gulped each breath as if he had been underwater for so long.

Stiles choked back the sob with his hand over his mouth. He’s never felt so terrified in his entire life. Afraid his knees would give in, he threw himself into Derek’s arm. As Derek’s arms wrapped around him once again, Stiles felt tears stream down his face, and he sobbed into the older male’s chest. “It’s okay,” he heard Derek whisper. “I’m right here,”

 

-

 

“Where is my dad?” Stiles finally asked as Melissa tucked him into the hospital bed.

“He is waiting outside,” Melissa explained as she pulled the covers to his chest.

“Does he know?” It was a stupid question but one he needed to ask. He couldn’t begin to imagine how his father must have felt during the last few days. Derek had told him he had been missing for five days, but how long has it been now? They kept him at Deaton’s for a while, he had been in and out of sleep a few times, and he had no idea what time it was right now.

“He knows,” Melissa answered.

“Is he okay?” Stiles sniffled. “Did something happen to him?”

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and then brush his hair back softly. “Stiles, he is okay, and he is safe,” Melissa consoled. “Scott and the others made sure he was okay the entire time, they watched over him while they searched for you,”

Stiles felt some relief, but all he wanted was his father. “Can he come in?”

“Yes, of course, honey,”

Stiles listened to the door open and a pause of silence and then soft and slow footsteps coming closer and closer until they reached the doorway, Stiles presumed. The footsteps continued after a moment's hesitation, and he felt weight next to him. “Stiles,” his father wept softly.

“Dad,” Stiles sobbed, and he sat up, both father and son clinging to each other. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

He wasn’t sure why he was apologizing to his father. He hated himself and the fear and grief his father must have felt. “Why are you sorry, huh?” His father let out a chuckle through his tears. “You’re alright and alive, it’s all I can ask, kiddo,”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles repeated, guilt gnawed at him like a boulder on his shoulders. “I’m so sorry,”

 

-

 

“I just don’t want you to hide anything,” Stiles muttered. “Please, that’s all I’m asking. Don’t sugar coat it,”

“If what everyone is telling me, the person who held you hostage cleaned up the wound as best as they medically could and decided against removing the stitches,” the doctor continued. Stiles felt his dad squeeze his hand tighter. “Which was the best option because they would have made it much worse, but…”

“Please, doc,”

“But you will be blind for the rest of your life, the wound was traumatic and ultimately blinded you,” the words cut through Stiles like a knife. “We can help you heal, but you will no longer see,”

“There’s nothing you can do?” the sheriff asked.

“We will have to perform surgery, but after that, I can refer you to a rehabilitation specialist-” the doctor continued, but Stiles couldn’t listen. He couldn’t comprehend the words coming out of the doctor’s mouth.

Stiles felt his stomach churn violently, and he lurched forward. He puked out everything - the little food he could eat at Deaton’s.

 

-

 

When he woke up after the surgery, he felt the warmth of a person’s body next to him. They brushed his hair softly and whispered soft and comforting words. The perfume was familiar, and he knew who it was immediately. “Hey, there, batman,” Erica whispered.

“How did it go?”

“It was pretty much successful,” she murmured. “You’ll be out of the hospital in no time,”

Stiles believed it was the first time he formed any type of smile, but he loved Erica so profoundly she would say anything, and he would always feel better. “Where is everyone?”

“Derek ordered everyone to search the woods, I was asked to look watch over you while your dad went to shower at your home” she explained without hesitation. Stiles loved that about her, she always told him the truth. “We still have no idea what or who took you,”

“He’s going to kill them,” Stiles sighed heavily. “Call him, please,”

“Why?”

“Erica,” he lowered his voice in the slightest way and she grabbed her phone right away. Stiles could hear the ringing, and then hello almost immediately. He heard a hello on the other line. “Tell him to send them home,”

“Stiles wants you to send everyone home,” there was a moment of silence on both lines, and then Stiles heard a beep. Erica had ended the call. “He sent them home,”

Stiles nodded. “That’s good,”

“Go back to bed, the doctor won’t be here until morning,” she caressed his temple, and Stiles felt sleep overcome his body almost immediately.

 

–

 

“Stiles, what did you see?”

“Who are you?”