You Left Me
Summary:
A house needed a foundation to build on and so did their pack but by the time Stiles got the pack to listen, they all blamed him. He didn’t understand why but during one pack meeting they pointed out how all of their problems somehow connected to Stiles. Stiles panicked because in truth he was the one who saved them time and time again. So how was he at fault?
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Stiles didn’t know where he was going as he ran through the forest. All he knew was he couldn’t go back. Home wasn’t home anymore as evidenced by the way his friends couldn’t stand to look at him. He thought he could stay and ignore how they avoided him, but he gave up after a week. The final straw, the reason behind him running through the forest, was a fight with Scott. He felt tears stream down his cheeks as he thought back on the conversation they had less than an hour ago.
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“I don’t know what more you want from me Scott!” he shouted.
“I don't want anything from you. I don’t want you around,” Scott shouted back.
Stiles froze and his eyes narrowed. “Seriously? I haven’t done anything wrong. I defended myself. You know that, and I’ve already resigned myself to being ignored by all of you. I don’t know what else you want me to do.”
“You can leave. You can stop filling the halls with the scent of sadness and hurt. You brought this on yourself. You’re not allowed to walk the halls trying to make us feel bad for wanting nothing to do with you. This is all your fault. You can’t blame us for defending ourselves from you. I mean we know what happened to Allison and then Donovan. Who’s to say Lydia’s not next? Or Isaac? Or Danny? Or Jackson? It’s like the Nogitsune never left!” Scott yelled with a growl.
“Allison wasn’t my fault, Scott. That was all him. I fought—”
Scott snarled. “Don’t lie, Stiles. You killed her and you loved it. Stop using him as an excuse for how fucked up you are! Leave! If I see you again after tonight, I will kill you,” he spat.
Stiles felt his heart shatter. When he looked up again and saw that Scott was serious, he turned and ran.
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The blood pounding in his ears snapped him back to the present. His shirt was soaked through from the downpour. It was late into the night and he didn’t know where to go or what to do. Why should he keep going? His dad intercepted a robber while he was off duty one night and was killed. His dad was dead and he had nothing and no one left.
Beacon Hills had been Stiles’s only home since he was born. It was eighteen, almost nineteen, years later and that was still the case. Through all the clashes with various supernatural beings over the years their small pack stayed strong but it was also fractured. Stiles did his best to mend the cracks in the foundation but it was almost impossible when they didn’t have one to begin with.
A house needed a foundation to build on and so did their pack but by the time Stiles got the pack to listen, they all blamed him. He didn’t understand why but during one pack meeting they pointed out how all of their problems somehow connected to Stiles. Stiles panicked because in truth he was the one who saved them time and time again. So how was he at fault?
Everyone had ignored him for some fault they found in him. Stiles knew their reasons were meritless, but it hurt so bad. He stopped caring. When he tripped on a root and crashed to the ground he didn’t bother even getting up. He just laid on the ground letting the tears stream down his face. He was so tired. He was tired of being alone, ignored, blamed, and a part of him was tired of living. It was a downhill slide from then on. Stiles closed his eyes, curled up into a ball on the forest floor and drifted off.
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He woke with a start, his eyes wide as he tried to get his bearings. He wasn’t outside anymore and he looked down to see himself in dry clothes. He wondered how that happened as he looked around the space he found himself in. It seemed like a small cabin but he didn’t remember any cabins in the forest, and he would remember if there had been one because he’d grown up exploring every inch of it. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times but the scenery didn’t change.
He looked at his hands and counted. 1, 2, 3…all the way up to 10 to prove to himself that he was indeed awake. He was cold and pulled the blanket closer around him. Wait! He looked at the blanket and then took a deep breath in through his nose. When the scent filled his nostrils it threw him into a pile of memories.
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“Mischief!” a boy called out to him.
Stiles beamed and hurried over. “Hi, Theodorable!” he said giggling.
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“Mischief? Did you ask your mom?”
Stiles nodded and held up a sleeping bag. “She said we can sleep in the tree house!”
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“Happy Birthday dear Mischiefffffff! Happy Birthday to you!” Theo laughed and handed Stiles his gift.
Stiles gasped and squealed. “How’d you get his autograph?!” He threw himself at Theo and beamed.
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“Don’t worry, Theo! I brought all your favorites. Movie night is on!” Stiles cheered
Theo curled up under the blanket. “You’re the best, Mischief.”
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“Hello?” Stiles said quietly as he entered the house. He looked around at the now empty building. His breath caught and he teared up. “No! Where’d you go?” he cried out before searching the entire house, finding no one and nothing. He went outside and collapsed on the porch steps sniffling. “Theo.”
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Stiles’s eyes snapped open and he looked around again. “Theo?” he whispered.
“Hey, Mischief,” a voice to his right said quietly.
Stiles whipped his head in the direction of the voice and came face to face with a guy his age. He was gorgeous and Stiles blushed lightly taking in the blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled jawline (unlike Scott’s crooked one), and the smile. “H-Hi,” he replied quietly. He was struggling to hold back tears when he heard his childhood nickname spoken for the first time in years. Only his mother and Theo had been allowed to call him Mischief. Stiles didn’t realize how much he missed hearing that name.
Theo gestured to the couch. “May I sit?”
Stiles nodded and went to move his feet but Theo simply lifted them, sat down, and let them rest on his lap.
“You had me worried.” Stiles quirked an eyebrow and Theo continued. “I found you. Your lips were blue and when I touched you, you were so cold. I did my best to warm you up but I was scared I’d lost you,” he whispered and started rubbing small circles on Stiles‘s ankle with his thumb.
Stiles melted at the touch and looked down. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just had to leave. I guess if dying was truly my goal, I could’ve just stayed and let him kill me.”
Theo growled low at that but with a bemused look from Stiles, he cleared his throat. “Who?”
“Scott,” Stiles replied in barely a whisper.
Theo didn’t stop his growl this time. “He threatened you?”
Stiles nodded.
“Why?”
Stiles shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just say I can’t go home anymore. Once I’m warmed up, I’ll get out of your hair too.”
Theo frowned and shook his head. “No. You’re not bothering me and I wouldn’t have brought you here if I wanted you to disappear.”
“But you disappearing is just fine?” Stiles asked, meeting Theo’s gaze.
“I—” Theo started but sighed. He swallowed thickly, struggling to speak with the lump of emotion lodged in his throat. “I didn’t want to leave. I was forced to. They threatened you. So, I left, but I kept an eye on you as best I could. Once I was old enough to deal with them myself, I did so.”
“Really?”
Theo nodded. “There was nothing that would ever stop me from coming back to you. I can back to you, came back for you, Bambi. I’m here.”
“Now you’re here?”
Theo nodded and met Stiles’s gaze with utmost sincerity. “I’m here.”
Stiles tilted his head, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “For how long?”
“As long as you want me here.”
“So, forever?”
“Is that what you want?”
Stiles swallowed and nodded before averting his gaze. “Yeah,” he admitted in barely a whisper.
Theo moved closer, his hand sliding up to grip Stiles’s thigh, the touch grounding them both. “Then I’ll never leave you again.”
“Never?”
“Never ever.”
“Promise?” Stiles inquired, leaning closer, unaware he was doing so but not pulling back nonetheless.
Theo shook his head, stopping just short of kissing the amber eyed man. “I promise.”
Stiles closed the remaining distance between their lips and sighed into the kiss, finally finding what had been missing all these years and vowing to never let go of Theo, to never let go of his happiness, ever again.
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