Chapter Text
Stiles Stilinski is not actually a nice guy. Sure, he’s loyal to the people he cares about, the ones who’ve earned his trust. But it takes a lot to do so; it’s never given out freely. But once it’s been earned, once someone has this boy’s trust, then it’s as if their name is carved into his heart. Short of abandonment or utmost betrayal from them, there’s nothing that would cause them to lose it; they’ll have his loyalty forever. If they don’t break Stiles’ heart after he’s given them a piece of it, he’ll stick with them until the end, take a bullet for them, even cover for them while they run off to hunt bunnies on the full moon.
But you see, now, Stiles is at the end of his rope. His patience is gone and he’s been fucked over one too many times. He’s been so focused on doing everything for everyone else, sacrificing so much for the happiness of others, thinking that this is what friends do. But he’s realized that none of his friends think the same way. All of them seem to have forgotten how to say thank you when anyone does them a favor and none of them ever think of anything but themselves.
Except for, surprisingly, of all people, Derek. When he comes to Stiles, slips into his bedroom through the window with requests for research or insight into whatever problems currently plaguing Beacon Hills, he does so extremely politely. He and Stiles always have fantastically snarky banter and after 2 years of knowing each other, Derek is finally not afraid to show his sense of humor. Gone are the days where he would get so impatient with Stiles’ tendency to ramble that he’d slam him into things. Now, it’s as if he enjoys the things the younger man talks about. And Stiles really appreciates it because it almost feels like everyone else just tunes him out.
Stiles used to be really afraid of Derek, but then he thought about it. He had pieced together what happened to the Hales, how that bitch Kate Argent had known when and how to set the fire to ensure it was a proper massacre. And Stiles doesn’t give a fuck what anyone says, that’s rape. She raped him, even if it was consensual. Because he was 16 and she was his goddamn substitute teacher; he’d looked up the police files and filled in all the holes. Stiles would bet that Derek had never told a soul what had happened to him. Not even Laura. And he really feels for the guy, understands how he could have so much anger in him. He’s violent because he wants to mask the guilt radiating from his every pore. Stiles only wished there were something he could do.
He’d also really like to pound it into Scott’s head just how stupid it is to consider throwing everyone else away for the sake of Allison Argent’s magical vagina. Because it’s really not okay just how much others have suffered because of Scott’s idiocy and complete blindness when it comes to her. When that whole thing with the Kanima went down and Lydia managed to turn Jackson back into a werewolf, Stiles was covered in cuts and bruises inflicted on him by Gerard Argent. And Scott, his supposed best friend, didn’t even ask about them, didn’t even check if he was okay. He did, however, comfort the girl who had spent the entire time stabbing Scott and Isaac with those goddamn ring daggers of hers. Not to mention, she’d spent the last week shooting arrows into teenagers who wanted nothing more than to leave Beacon Hills and helping her psychotic grandfather capture them and torture them with electricity. Stiles knew that Allison had been aware that Gerard had taken Stiles and was beating the shit out of him. She just didn’t care. And he guesses, neither does Scott.
Stiles was okay with being nobody’s priority for a while, but some things just can’t be ignored. The final straw that broke the werecamel’s back was on December 2nd. The worst day in Stiles’s life, the day that makes Christmas every year so damn hard, the day he spends out of school and sometimes the Sheriff takes it off work, but that varies with how he feels ne needs to handle it. The anniversary of the death of Claudia Stilinski. Every year on December 2nd, Stiles and Scott skip school and together visit the cemetery. Scott hangs back while Stiles spends a while just sitting in front of her headstone, talking to her and usually crying some too. He can’t help it, he misses her. Afterwards, Scott will hold his hand as they leave the cemetery and go back to Stiles’ house, where Scott will spend the entire day distracting his best friend. They’ll watch movies, play video games, and eat enough junk food to feed a small army. It’s the only thing that keeps Stiles from breaking down each year, the only thing that keeps his heart from bursting with how much pain he still feels from the loss of his mom.
Thursday, November 30th, Stiles walked up to Scott as he was standing at his locker just after lacrosse practice. “Hey man, didn’t see you much today.”
“Yeah, Allison wanted to eat lunch outside today. She likes days that are chilly and sunny. And then after lunch, she said we should skip the rest of the day and use it for uh, our own fun, if you know what I mean.” Scott had this dopey look on his face so Stiles did, unfortunately, know what he meant.
Shaking off his grossed out expression, Stiles moves on. “Good times, I guess. I just wanted to make sure we were still on for Saturday? The Second?”
“Oh yeah, definitely! I will see you there, man!” Scott finished up changing, grabbed his backpack and walked out of the locker room. Stiles sighed, feeling relieved, and finished up too before he headed out to his jeep.
~~~~~~~~
Saturday dawned gloomy and overcast. Stiles pulled his red hoodie tighter around him as he walked through the cemetery to his mother’s headstone. Unusually, Scott hadn’t been waiting in the parking lot when he got there. “He must be already at the marker,” Stiles muttered to himself. But when he got there, no Scott. He frowned, but shrugged it off; that kid was always running late. He’d be here. Stiles sat down on the slightly dewy grass and began talking to his mom, saying he was sorry he hadn’t been to visit more often and explaining just how much supernatural mayhem he’d had to deal with in the past months.
After about 4 hours of waiting and chilling with his mom, Stiles gave up. He felt like a hot knife had been stabbed through his gut. He pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Scott.
‘Where are you?’
‘dude, where am i? where r u?! greenburg’s lame, but he thru a gud lax team party! party all day n nite! allison here n isaac 2! get here! thot u were comin!’
Stiles felt sick. Of course. Of fucking course.
But then it was like something snapped inside him and Stiles felt nothing but rage. This was it. No fucking more. He dialed another number on his phone and held it up to his ear as he started trudging his way back to his jeep. “Hey, Peter? I need a favor. A big one. But I think you’ll reeeeaaaaallly enjoy it. Can I come over?”
~~~~~~~~
Chris awoke and tried to figure out why the hell he felt so damn fuzzy. When had he fallen asleep? What was even the last thing he was doing? Ah yes, grocery run. And a stop at the gas station on his way home. But did he get home? He didn’t think so. He doesn’t ever remember putting the groceries away.
He groaned as his vision cleared. Shit. A creepy, dank, dark warehouse, just where he wanted to spend his evening. Automatically he noticed he could no longer feel the knife sheath usually strapped to his ankle. Or the handgun on his belt. Or any of the other numerous weapons he kept on his person, he assumed. And he was tied up. Expertly too, from the feel of it; the ropes wouldn’t give an inch. Double shit.
That’s when he took in his surroundings and realized he’s not the only one here, not the only one tied up. But at least he wasn’t gagged like the others. “Allison!” he croaked, before coughing and clearing his throat. “Are you alright? What’s going on?” She just looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. Now, his little girl wasn’t a little girl anymore. She’d been extremely well trained. So if she was scared, then she’d already tried everything she could think of to get out of this and failed.
Scott McCall was there too, still coming around from the look of his hazy eyes. Chris could see from his position that the ropes the teen wolf was tied with were smoking slightly where they touched his skin. The boy finally woke up, whining in pain around his gag as he did. Then Allison caught his eye and nodded to somewhere behind Chris and he turned his head and body as much as his bindings would allow. Which wasn’t very much at all, really, but it was enough to see what she was pointing out.
Gerard looked even more like shit than he normally did. Chris probably should have killed the old bastard by now.
“Apologies for the timing, Chris. I’m afraid the ice cream you bought has melted by now. It’s a damn shame; mint chocolate chip is one of my favorites too. But you know, I had you pegged as more of a vanilla guy.” Chris didn’t jump; he had too much training and experience to react so strongly. But he was definitely surprised as he recognized the voice that spoke. The Stilinski boy?
Said teen appeared from around a corner, a placid smile gracing his freckled face. Somehow, it was creepier than if he had looked crazed or angry. Chris wondered what exactly the kid was up to. “Stilinski? What the hell is the meaning of this?! Why have you kidnapped my family? And your best friend?” Stiles interrupted him with a loud scoff, but Chris kept going. “Kid, your father is a cop, you really think-“
“Oh, shut up, you hypocrite.” Stiles interrupted again. “Like you give a damn about kidnapping. Or harming families, for that matter. The time has come for you to listen instead of speaking. For you to be suffer instead of inflicting suffering. Nobody has stood up to you, nobody has made any of you pay for your crimes! Because nothing could be proven! But that doesn’t mean it didn’t goddamn happen, that doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Kate got what was coming to her, but even then, she didn’t really. Simply getting her throat ripped out so quickly wasn’t enough punishment for burning 11 innocent people alive.” Gerard had begun growling angrily the moment Stiles had mentioned Kate’s name and the boy now shot him an amused look. “I’m sure you really enjoyed beating the shit out of me old man,” Chris had the grace to shift uncomfortably at this. “ But I have the power right now. Also, I’ve heard way scarier growls than yours; you can’t even grow fangs. Work on it, dude. Maybe practice in the mirror.” Gerard glared at him, but Stiles just smirked.
Scott started making confused sounding noises, clearly trying to speak to the other teen. But he was just ignored. “Now. I’ve decided that I’ve had enough. Enough of all of your bullshit, enough letting people you walk all over me and the ones I care about. See, I’m goddamn smart. I really am. I hide it some, but it’s true. And I’ve figured out a few things.” He moved then, stepped forward some and in front of the oldest Argent, who was still glaring up at their captor.
Chris tried to stall him, knowing whatever he had planned wouldn’t be good for them. “I thought you cared about Scott, Stiles.” The boy in question made a bunch more noise then, but Stilinski barely reacted.
“Be quiet now please, Chris, or I’ll have to gag you too.” Stiles said, smiling pleasantly. Jesus. “All of you will get your chances to speak. Well, that’s not true. Not all of you. See, this one here?” At that, Stiles kicked Gerard’s bound feet, causing the old man to moan in pain. Chris noticed several slash marks on his legs and the rest of his body, for that matter. He hadn’t even noticed all the blood until then. “His words are poison. He dribbled them into his precious Kate’s ear, convinced her to seduce a 16 year old little werewolf – although, knowing that bitch, I doubt she took much convincing – and he praised her efforts after she burned that boy’s entire family alive. None of them had ever violated your sham of a code, but that didn’t matter. Not to a couple of psychopaths. You know, they say psychopaths who kill have a very…sexual motive behind the murders they commit. How bout it, Gerry boy? Ever slip it to Kitty-Cat?” Chris felt sick, he knew it was a strong possibility. Stiles kept smirking. “I bet you did. Like, really. But it doesn’t matter so much anymore. Like I said, your words are poison. So there’s no chance I’m going to even let you answer. It’s time to save the whole world a boat load of pain.” So fast that the lot of them had no time to react, Stiles pulled a gun with a silencer on it out and shot Gerard right through the forehead. Chris felt surprise at the skill of the shot before it sank it that his father, sadistic as he was, had just been killed right in front of him.